


Soundlines

by the_uninvited_star



Category: Ski Jumping - Fandom, Ski Jumping RPF
Genre: Crush at First Sight, Falling In Love, I don't know, Kraftboeck, M/M, No Angst, Romance, Ski Jumping, Slow Burn, aaawww, alternative universe, at some point, but they are just background characters, is it still rpf if it's an au, it's all good, kraftböck, nothing bad happens, some classical music is in the mix, there are few original characters, there will be sex eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-11-05 12:31:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11013486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_uninvited_star/pseuds/the_uninvited_star
Summary: Stefan is a dependable, hard-working individual who studies for his master's in architecture, while running his small, design company on the side. He's happy with his life, the way it is organized and planned ahead, and really doesn't want anything to change. Until one day he finds himself in his favourite coffee shop, in a dire need to charge his laptop and in the presence of an overzealous, matchmaking barista ...





	1. Chapter 1

Just like any other week night, Stefan was sitting in his kitchen at the table, which also served as his working desk. Once in couple minutes, he flipped pages of the book resting on his lap, or the other one laying on the table beside his laptop. He was preparing a presentation for the class, that he was supposed to give on Friday. Reaching for the mug of tea standing behind his laptop, he checked the hour. It was five past one in the morning. The tea had already gone cold and his eyes were beginning to itch. He scratched his right eye, put the mug down and started summing up what he’d managed to get done so far.

  
He’d read the assigned chapters from a textbook and made some very thorough, extensive notes. He had even tried reading some parts of the additional material suggested by his professor, but he stopped when he realized it was neither interesting nor informative. Next, he’d written two thirds of the essay that was due for Monday next week. Good progress there. Finally, he’d finished the design for one his clients. It was ready: all the drawings, charts, spreadsheets and other files neatly saved into separate folders. He moved them all into a one folder, and changed its name to the name of the client. They wanted to have it by Thursday so he should have enough time to double check the calculations.

He closed the massive book sitting on his lap, put it on the table and then closed his computer. Now it was time to call it day and get some sleep. He had to get up early next day. He planned to drop by the workshop to pick up some samples - pieces of fabric, flooring, small blocks of wood, and the like - before heading off to the lecture. He wanted to have enough time for that; he didn’t like to rush and he hated being late. His conscientiousness and punctuality were what made him one of the best at his year, and brought him plenty of positive recommendations from the clients. The price he had to paid for being the best was not getting enough sleep and not much time for socializing. Stefan didn’t mind. He was one of those lucky people who actually loved their job; he wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

He woke up to the cheerful, uplifting tune of the alarm. He rolled over, fished out his phone from underneath the comforter and pressed snooze. He allowed himself five more minutes of idle staring at the ceiling, than got up and headed straight for the shower. Then he proceed to make and eat a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, toasts and a bowl of granola with yogurt. It was going to be a long day, so he need a solid meal in the morning. Tuesdays were always like that. He’d be sitting in the lecture hall till lunch and then again till six. After that he was going to run some errands, and last go to the gym. He wouldn’t get back home until ten in the evening.

On his way to the university he got a phone call from one the contractors working on the project he was involved in right now; they needed his design and estimations to have the project approved by the client. ASAP. It was supposed to be on Thursday but the client moved the date. Stefan swore under his breath. He strongly disapproved of people changing deadlines the last minute; it was highly irresponsible and immature. He had a tight schedule - balancing work and studies, but he always managed to hand in his assignments on time, and he never crossed deadlines. He swore again, when he remembered he was supposed go to the workshop to get some samples. No time for that right now. He had to sit somewhere and send the contractor an e-mail.

Without much consideration, he got off the bus - the obvious choice was Kofi’s Coffee.

Stefan had already had his morning dose of caffeine but at Kofi’s they served much better coffee than any other place in the area. The owner of the shop, and it’s chief barista, was one Andreas “Kofi” Kofler - a decorated athlete, who finished his sport career at ripe age of thirty and decided to take up a completely different professional path. When asked why he’d chosen to open a coffee shop, he’d grin and say “It’s the nickname you know, I could let it go to waste.” Known for his good-hearted humor and sunny disposition as well as his legendary cheesecake, he quickly became the locals’ favourite. The proximity of the large part of the university’s campus made his shop Mecca for students.

Stefan walked in and instantly he was welcomed by the soothing scent of espresso and coffee beans. As always at this time the shop was full. He took his place in the line. Standing there he fished out his laptop from his bag pack, only to realize he had forgotten to charge it last night.

“Damn it,” he murmured. That day didn’t not start well and obstacles seemed to be pilling up.

“What’s wrong?” Kofi asked, looking up from the order he was preparing. Dark roast. No cream, cane sugar.

“I need to charge my laptop. It’s kind of an emergency,” Stefan replied as he looked around. The place was packed. “I guess, I’ll have to ask someone to let me hook it up at their table.”

“You can go there,” Kofi pointed towards the table next to the window. It was huddled in the corner and instead of chairs or armchairs to sit, there was a small couch. Enough for two. Presently the couch was occupied by only one person - a blond man wearing a navy blue jumper.

Stefan let his eyes linger on that man for a moment. He couldn’t see his face but he seemed vaguely familiar; it was possible he had seen him here before. Then he turned back to Kofi and internally went “oh oh”. Barista’s face looked like he suddenly had a great idea, and his smile changed from the usual happy-go-lucky to a mischievous one.

“Come on,” he urged Stefan, walking out from behind the counter and grabbing a pot filled with coffee. “I’ll go with you.”

“I can go alone. I can talk you know.”

“I need to serve a re-fill,” Kofi answered, ignoring his protest. “Come on, follow me.”

Stefan followed adjusting his bag, with his laptop pressed against his chest, wondering what that clown of a man was up to this time. When they reached the table Kofi unceremoniously boomed.

  
“Michael! This is my friend Stefan. He needs to charge his computer. Would that be okay with you?”

“Sure,” the man whom Kofi identified as Michael, barely lifted his eyes. He registered barista’s presence and went back to whatever he was doing. He had a notebook of some sort opened in front of him, on the table.

Kofi gestured Stefan to sit down and sauntered away seeming very pleased with himself.

“Thanks,” Stefan said, dropping his bag pack on the couch. He decided not address Kofi’s ridiculous behaviour.

“No problem.”

“I won’t be long,” he added, placing his laptop on the table as sat down.

“It’s all right, really.”

While he was waiting for system to boot he glanced sideways and noticed that the notebook resting on the table in front of his neighbour wasn’t a regular one. It was a music stave notebook. The other man held a pencil in his hand and he was adding notes on the side of the musical notation. Stefan realized what he was doing and that made his so impressed, that without thinking he blurted out.

“Are you composing something? Sorry I didn’t mean to bother…”

He trailed off because Michael turned his head to look at him, and Stefan could swear his heart stopped for a second, and then started to beat much faster. He was hoping it didn’t show up his face.

“Actually I am just correcting it right now,” Michael told him.

“But it’s just notes on paper,” Stefan reacted and immediately he felt like a complete moron. _Just notes on paper?_? What an acute observation.

“I can hear it in my head,” Michael pointed his temples with the rubber part of the pencil.

“All of it?”

“Uhum,” the other man confirmed.

Stefan opened his eyes wider in awe.

“That’s amazing,” he said forgetting his embarrassment for a moment.

“Thank you,” Michael said with appreciation and smiled.

A series of sounds coming from Stefan’s laptop announced that the device managed to boot, connect with the Internet and the outlook already received all the new e-mails. He was very grateful for that because he didn’t think he could produce a sound right now. At least not a coherent sound. Also, he was afraid that this time his face would betray how he felt. Dazed. Utterly dazed.

Silently they both turned back to their respective tasks: Michael to his notes and Stefan to his design documentation. The design itself - drawings and charts - was complete, but Stefan wanted to go through the numbers again. He found it difficult to concentrate. It seemed that the coffee shop got hotter. He realized that his hands were a bit shaky. After about five minutes, which felt more like an hour for Stefan, Michael finished his coffee and gathered his belongings.

“Bye, ” he dropped before leaving.

“Um, bye. Thanks again.”

Stefan was left alone, sitting at couch, wondering what the hell just happened. He didn’t have much time to wonder though, because as soon as Michael disappeared out the door, Kofi materialized right in front of him. He sat on the place Michael had vacated, and looked at Stefan with eager anticipation and that goofy grin plastered all over his face.

“And?”

“What the fuck was the supposed to be?” Stefan demanded.

“That was some fine example of ad hoc match-making,” Andi explained with great aplomb.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“No listen, I know it may seem a bit abrupt…”

“A bit?”

“Let me finish. I am here every day right? I observe people and I notice things about them, especially those who come regularly.”

“So you decided to match me up with a guy I have never talked to before because he is one of your regulars?”

“Trust me. I have done this before, I know what I am doing.”

“Okay. I believe that your intentions are good, however, misguided. But whatever you think you’re doing you need to stop.”

“Why? You can’t have some fun?”

“What makes you think my life isn’t fun?”

Andi chuckled.

“Hey! What was that supposed to be? Do you think I am boring?”

“All you do is study and work, and waste your potential.”

Stefan rolled his eyes. Not that again.

“I’ve seen your works man,” Andi pressed on. “It’s gorgeous.”

“It’s a reproduction of someone else’s gorgeous work. I am a good craftsman - no pun intended - but I don’t have a strong enough artistic voice to be an artist in my own.”

“So, you are going to spend your life designing faucets?”

“What’s wrong with that. Don’t you need a faucet?”

“I do, indeed. But I think that, no matter what you say, your talent shouldn’t be wasted on faucets. Or toilets.”

“I am going to design houses. Beautiful, functional, sustainable houses for people to live in. Is that not enough for you?”

“All right, all right, mister Green Architect. At least tell me what you thought?”

“About what?”

“Spatial and temporal distribution of rain in the Amazonian jungle,” Andi teased, and when Stefan gave in him an impatient look, he added: “Michael, you moron.”

“What I thought about him? Andi we barely spoke. That was like, less than ten minutes.”

“And?”

“I don’t know. He seemed like an okay person.”

“An okay person?”

“What can I tell you? Kind of distant but well-mannered.”

“Wow.”

“What did you expect, that I was going to swoon? This isn’t a movie,” he’d never admit to Andi that he had been, indeed, very close to swooning.

“You’re hopeless, you know. You’ll end up eaten by your cat - like in that movie.”

“Only half-eaten. By an Alsatian. That’s how it went in the movie.”

“Regardless. I will not come to your funeral,” Andi declared, winking, as he got up to leave.

“You’re not invited anyway,” Stefan retorted.

He sipped his coffee, wrote an e-mail to his contractor, attached all the necessary documentation, and pressed “send”. He also tried not to think about that sudden rush he felt when Michael looked at him.


	2. Chapter 2

Stefan continued trying not to think about his conversation with Michael for the rest of the week. He didn’t want to think about it, and he wasn’t actively trying to recall every detail of their meeting. It just kept popping up in his thoughts even when was doing something else. He couldn’t get it out of his mind. It seemed that his brain got stuck in a loop, and kept replaying that unexpected meeting over and over again, including all the embarrassing moments. Just to be on the safe side Stefan avoided Kofi’s Coffee for the next couple of days. Luckily, as the next week started, his work piled up and he had two important assignments to hand in by the end of the it, so he had things to keep him occupied. Also he would be away for the weekend. He had promised his parents he would visit them. His parents lived a small town, about an hour long drive away from the city, in a nice, little house with a garden.

He arrived there before noon, and spend half of the day helping his dad in the garden. In the afternoon, neighbours, who were also their family’s friends, came over, and they had a barbecue. On Sunday evening he got an e-mail from his friend saying he was going to shorten his stay in India and would be back in the country by the end of the month. The e-mail also contained a picture of his friend sitting on the ground in a meditative pose, and a picture of an extremely bored-looking elephant.

All in all the weekend was great, and he practically forgot about the meeting at the coffee shop.

So, on Monday morning he left his apartment and set off for the bus stop, as usually. He got there a bit too early, as usually. It was early spring, so the air in the morning was still a bit chilly, but the sky above was clear blue, with puffy white clouds, and brightly shinning sun. Waiting for the bus he took a sip of his coffee - it was so good, strong, bitter and hot. He liked these moments: quite and still before the rush of the day began, cold balanced by sunrays on his face and the warmth of coffee.

The bus arrived on time and glided majestically into its lane. Holding his mug with one hand, Stefan shifted the strap of his bag with the other, and got on the bus. He exchanged polite greetings with the driver, he’d been taking that bus almost every day for the last three years, so he knew most of the drivers by name.

When turned to take a seat he stopped dead in his track.

Sitting in one of the front seats was the last person he’d expected to see there. Apparently, he would be sharing the ride with him this morning. He quickly suppressed a little jolt that gave him. What on earth was Michael doing on this bus?

Fortunately Michael didn’t notice him. He had his headphones on, eyes closed and hummed quietly to himself, absently tapping his fingers on the railing. Stefan walked by quickly and was going to sit at the back, but he ended up taking a seat just two rows behind, on the opposite side. Michael would’t be able to see him without turning around at least 90 degrees. He put on his headphones and on his phone he opened an article he’d planned to read. The whole bus ride, every now and then, he would glance up… At some point he caught himself thinking, that he had never seen such shade of blond, that could only be described as golden with just a hint of copper, which was revealed when sunrays fell on Michael’s hair. Stefan shook his head, irritably, when he realized that was staring and gaping. This was getting ridiculous.

***

Michael only took that bus when he stayed for the night at his sister’s as it was a direct connection from where she lived to the conservatory. It was quite a long ride, about forty five minutes, so of course he always listened to music. That day he was listening to Mozart’s violin concerto no. 3, adagio - the second movement. It was perfect for that spring morning: sweet and lightweight, crystal clear sound of the violin carrying the melody that was elegant and simple, with other instruments - viola, cello, bass, horns and flutes - soft and subtle in the background. He kept his eyes half closed to better focus on music but at the same time enjoy the view from the window; the world bathed in sunlight, trees starting to bloom and grass getting greener with every day. At some point, when the bus stopped, he noticed a dark-haired man waiting at the bus stop. He recognized him immediately. It was that sweet boy who asked to charge his laptop at his table last week, at the coffee shop. Or actually Andi asked for him. Michael smiled remembering the exasperated expression on the other man’s face when Kofi introduced them. He said his name was Stefan. Nice name. He seemed fairly embarrassed by barista’s undiplomatic behaviour. Michael was used to it. It wasn’t the first time. He knew Kofi’s tactics; the man was a great guy and even better friend but sometimes he just didn’t know how to mind his own business. For one thing he couldn’t understand that for some people being along was a preferable state.

Michael rarely felt at ease around strangers or people he just met. Due to his introverted nature, it took him long time to warm up to people and generally he preferred to interact with them in small doses. If he were to choose between spending time in a company of someone he didn’t feel comfortable with or didn’t know very well, and alone, he’d take alone any time. Many people were surprised to learn that about him, because he made an impression of being confident, sometimes maybe bit taciturn, but other than that personable and quite charming. It’s not that he was shy or insecure. He just liked to be in his own world. He could dedicate his time to doing things he loved the most: studying history of music from ancient times till modern days, learning about the way it had been constantly evolving, reading stories of people who put milestones in the development of music and defined the entire eras, learning about different tuning systems and composition methods. And finally but most importantly, he could play for hours. He didn’t mind not having busy social life, he’d rather stay at home and practice. Alone, surrounded only by music, in communion with the piano, he felt serene and happy.

However, he had to admit that, even though they exchanged only few words, he found himself enchanted by his brief encounter with Stefan. He was cute, and that made him look young, probably younger than he was. There was something genuine about him, his brown eyes were bright, lively and clever. When he saw him, getting on bus, fixing his bag, carrying a thermal mug which gave off the unmistakable scent of coffee, to his own surprise Michael realized that he’d like to meet and talk to him again.

***

When the same bothersome client who had previously moved the deadline at moment’s notice, now requested several, major adjustments in the original design, Stefan wasn’t even surprised anymore. The reason they gave, was - not because they didn’t like the first design, they had a change of mind and decided to do things differently. Stefan had to drive to their house and discuss the modifications, to assess whether they would be doable in the first place. Their house was at the outskirts of the city, so the trip back and forth took him the entire afternoon, and almost the entire evening. He came home late where even more work awaited him. He finished another project assigned by one of his professor, answered a bunch of e-mails, and did some obligatory reading. In the meantime he raided the fridge and ate everything that was left there, internally berating himself for not stopping to buy groceries on the way home. He dropped at 1 a.m. and fell asleep right away.

In the morning, he woke up hungry but miraculously quite well-rested. He padded to the kitchen, yawing and stretching on the way, hoping to find something suitable for breakfast. He found a lone egg, some bread he could toast and a half of tomato that was suspiciously soft and mushy on one side. He squinted at the clock on the wall. It was still pretty early. He could probably have a breakfast at Kofi’s without being late for the meeting. He was going to get coffee anyway, he might as well eat there. They had those amazing grilled ciabatta sandwiches with prosciutto, mozzarella and capers. Once the decision was made he got ready as quickly as possible, and left for the bus. There was no bus stop right in front of Kofi’s so, when he got off, he had to walk one block to get there.

When he walked from around the corner and saw the person coming from the opposite direction, towards the coffee shop he actually blinked couple times, because he couldn’t believe it.

"No way," he said to himself.

It wasn’t as unexpected and random as seeing Michael on the bus the other day, but still - what were the odds? He even started thinking that it was quite suspicious that they kept running into each other like that. Did Kofi have something to do with?

He slowed down, watching the other man approaching. Whether that was just pure coincidence and Andi’s scheming, he had to concede to the fact, that despite his best efforts to remain indifferent the attraction was there. Undeniably so. The fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach. The imminent giddiness and slight trembling. He told himself that he must get a grip and act natural - like a reasonable adult that he was.

They both reached the entrance pretty much at the same time.

"Hi," he said smiling somewhat nervously.

"Hey," Michael responded. The door swooshed open and they walked in together. "Laptop dead again?"

"Nah. I had a busy day yesterday, worked till late and somehow overlooked the fact that my food supplies had run out..." he realized he was babbling. So much for acting naturally.

Michael just looked down at him with a subtle smile on his face.

"Breakfast then?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Same here."

They looked around; it was Saturday morning so the place was practically deserted as majority of student-folk was either fast asleep or recovering from different stages of hangover. Each of them could easily have an entire table only for himself.

“I’m gonna go there," Michael pointed to that small table and the couch in the corner. "It’s my favourite spot."

"Mine too. I like cause it’s all the way at back, in a nook, so it feels a bit more private, and you don’t have to sit surrounded by…"

"By a crowd of people," Michael finished nodding.

"Precisely."

"You wanna take it?"

"Oh, no. Go ahead it’s all yours."

"I can share. I wouldn’t mind the company."

It could be that he was reading too much into it but something about the way Michael said it, and the fact that just a second before he mentioned he didn’t like being surrounded by people, made Stefan think that what he really meant to say was 'I wouldn’t mind your company'.

They walked over to the counter to make their orders. Stefan was glad that Andi wasn’t on the shift today. Instead of him, behind the counter stood Julia, the co-owner and an excellent baker - 6 feet tall, always wearing her light brown hair pulled back into a pony tail, a bit bossy but otherwise very nice. Most importantly she had approximately zero interest in Kofi’s shenanigans, so she wouldn’t even mention to him that she saw them together.

"What can I get you today?" she asked Stefan first.

"Prosciutto sandwich and black coffee. Large."

"Would you like it in a set? You’ll get an extra donut."

"Sure. Why not."

"And for you?" she turned to Michael.

"The same."

"Okay guys, you go and sit down, I’ll bring it to you."

They walked to the table, took of their jackets. Stefan was a little bit afraid of not knowing what to say and an awkward silence falling between them; Michael didn’t strike him as particularly talkative type. However, to his surprise, and also relief, the moment they settled down, it was Michael who asked.

"Last time, I couldn’t help but notice that you were working with some serious technical drawings. What is that you do, exactly?"

Hearing that made Stefan even more pleasantly surprised; he assumed that Michael barely paid attention to him on that day.

"I study architecture. I’m getting my master’s degree next year," he replied.

"Wow."

"It’s not really that impressive."

"I think it is."

"If you say so," he smiled. "I also do interior design. I have my own small company."

"Well, that is really impressive. How do you manage to find time for all of that?"

"As you can see - I end up with nothing to eat on Saturday morning. No, I’m kidding. I am actually well-organized and I’ve got very good time management skills. It was one of my clients who messed up. They keep changing their mind, moving appointments…"

"How did you come up with an idea to open your own company?"

"Oh. That’s kind of a long story."

"Too long to tell?"

"No. But… Do you really wanna hear it? I’ll be just talking about myself."

"That’s all right. I don’t like… I don’t like talking that much myself. But I like listening…" Again, there was a catch at the end of that sentence, almost like he meant to add 'to you', but stopped. Stefan couldn’t tell - was he imagining that, or was it really happening?

"All right, so I have this friend…" he began.

His friend was born in Australia, but at some point his family moved. While living in Australia, he had been home schooled, so even though he was couple years older he ended up in the same high school with Stefan. Then they went to the university together. At some point, when they were in their second year, friend’s father wanted to renovate his company’s office, and he wanted to do it in environmentally friendly manner. However, his company was having a bit of financial troubles at that time, so the friend asked Stefan for help with the design and they ended up working together on that project. They both got really involved and did such a marvelous job, that when the company got back on feet, friend’s father offered to pay him more than he had initially agreed upon, and helped them establish their own company.

In the meantime Julia brought their order. Tantalizing smell of melted mozzarella, herbs, and freshly baked bread, reminded Stefan of just how hungry he was. First bite of the ciabatta tasted even better than usually.

"At the risk of sounding incredibly trite, I’m gonna say this is one of the best sandwiches ever made," he declared.

"I agree. I come here every Saturday for breakfast and I almost always have that one."

"Every Saturday?"

Michael nodded, and they went back to eating their breakfast. Neither commented on it, but neither was surprised when next week on Saturday they met again by the entrance. And the next week. And the week after.

"You must be tired of me talking about my work," Stefan remarked at some point.

"Far from that. You talk about your work with great enthusiasm. You love it don’t you?"

"I do," he confirmed, and went on. "I like to think that people will live in the houses I’ll design for them: play with their dog on the porch I’ll add to their house, or their kids will take their first steps in a room I’ll plan especially for them. And maybe thanks to my work more people will want green houses." Then he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Wait, why are you asking? Have you been talking to Andi? What did he tell you?"

"He might have mentioned that you are a gifted painter."

Stefan threw his hands up exasperated.

"Don’t listen to him. He’s got this crazy notion that I should be an artist."

"You don’t agree?"

"No," Stefan answered shaking his head. “You know how most parents want their kids to go to a law school, have a proper job and the kid wants to be in a rock band, right?”

"Yeah, I get the picture."

"It was exactly the opposite with my parents. They are the artsy type. My mum’s a florist, and dad is a sculptor."

"That sounded skeptical. You don’t approve of his career choice?"

"He has never made a single dime. He was lucky enough that my grandparents had a lot of money and they supported him financially throughout his entire life. Don’t get me wrong - I love my dad, he’s just one of the worst cases of Peter Pan’s syndrome ever. Also, although he’s never said it, I think he is a bit disappointed in me."

"You’re kidding?"

"Nope. He wanted me to be a painter. See my works in galleries and talk about them with his artist friends. Instead I decided to become an architect."

"So you don’t paint. At all?"

"I do. My parents had sent me to a high school of art and design, so I had to learn how to paint - all the techniques and so on. I’m not exactly bad at it. I just know that I don’t have it in me."

"What?"

"What it takes to be an artist."

"Which is what?"

"That spark. Unbound creativity. An element of madness.. I like when things are neat, measurable and structured."

"Interesting. You’re suggesting that to be an artist one has to be un-structured?"

"At least one must be able to fill the structure with something - something that comes from within, and it’s real and raw like…"

"Love," Michael finished for him. "Passion. Pain. Yearning." In that moment the morning light hit his eyes, and it made Stefan grip his mug harder. It was breathtaking. “This was what I feel when I play, I feel it within the music…” he added softly, abashed.

"Is it possible to hear you play somewhere?"

Immediately Michael’s eyes darkened.

"I don’t perform… not too often," he replied somehow reluctantly. "Only when I have to, you know, to get a credit."

"Oh. I’m sorry, may I know why?"

Michael sighed.

"Stage fright," he confessed. "Very bad case of it actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Every time I have to give a concert, even if it’s only for the other students, I am sick for days prior."

Seeing Michael’s uneasiness Stefan realized that he accidentally stepped on a sensitive topic.

"You’ve never told me who’s your favourite composer," he said wanting to change the subject. "I’m guessing Chopin is too conventional for you."

"Oh no,” Michael responded his eyes lighting up again. "One cannot be a classical pianist without a profound appreciation for Chopin. We have this running joke, that it is practically a requirement. Do _you_ like Chopin?"

"I do. I like the nocturnes, obviously. I also like that one piano concerto Grieg wrote. I often listen to them when I work.”

"Have you ever listened to Satie’s works?"

"Yeah, but Satie’s bit too deconstructed for me."

“I thought it would be,” Michael commented smiling. "This is very impressive you know. It's much more than people usually know about classical music."

"Well, I might be just a boring architect but I am not completely uncivilized," Stefan replied jokingly. 

"You're not boring," Michael responded immediately, and suddenly his gaze became more intense and focused. It wasn't the first he looked at him like that, yet every time he did during those last weeks, it would make him blush and send tingly, shivers down his stomach. 

“Listen if you’d like to, you could drop by the conservatory some day..." Michael continued. "I mean, I don’t mind playing for one person.”

“Really? That-that would be awesome. I’d love that. When?”Stefan agreed, trying to put some control into his voice that came out a bit breathy.

“I’m there every day, except for the weekends. And I often stay late. You can come any time… But just in case, something comes up you could text me. I’ll give you my number."

"Sure," Stefan reached to his pocket, only to realize that in a hurry to leave, he had left his phone on the table. The list of names he called himself in his head was long and colourful. Out loud he said: "Damn. Would you believe that forgot my phone?"

Michael opened his bag and fished out his notebook, which he apparently carried around with him everywhere. He tore a nice and even, piece of paper from the last page, scribbled down something, and handed the piece to him.

When Michael left Stefan sat there staring at that piece of paper - with phone number written on the stave - like musical notes.


	3. Chapter 3

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Um?” Stefan snapped out of his reverie, and looked at his friend a bit disoriented.

"Sorry, I phased out.“

"You seem distracted. Which is unusual. Did something happen?” Manu asked tilting his head, mildly intrigued.

They were sitting on the floor on large cushions, in Manu’s apartment which, like always, smelled of incense and cinnamon. The host was sitting with his legs crossed, wearing a cornflower blue harem pants with ornamental pattern, purple t-shirt, and prayer beads on his wrist. He was drinking an incredibly strong, spiced tea with honey and almond milk, Stefan had a bottle of beer.

“No, nothing really happened,” he answered.

“Your parents are fine, right? You’re not sick?”

Manu was _the_ friend: the one who introduced him to the idea of sustainable living and green housing, the one whose father helped him to open his company, the one who just came back from India. He was one of the most interesting individuals Stefan had ever had chance to befriend. Always up for a philosophical debate, very well-read, vegan and teetotaler, he approached life with unshakable stoicism. Stefan could not recall one time he’d seen him lost his temper or even raise his voice. He was also something a of math genius, an experienced construction engineer and Stefan’s business partner. They were waiting for Stefan to get his master’s so they could expand their company’s activity into building environmentally responsible homes.

“No. No. Everything is okay,” he assured him. “It’s that …um…” he shrugged trying to tone down, what he was about to say. “I might have met someone.”

“Oh!” clearly Manu had not even considered such possibility. “You’ve managed to surprise me. Am I right to assume that romantic feelings are involved?”

“I-I don’t know,” Stefan replied, shrugging again. “We’ve only just met.”

“Define ‘just’.”

“About a month ago.”

“And you still don’t know?”

“Hey, let me remind you, I don’t believe in such thing as love at first sight okay.”

Stefan remembered he was talking to a practicing Buddhist. Whenever that subject of love at first sight came up, Manu would deliver one of his monologues about souls meeting in previous incarnations. For a moment there Stefan thought was going to do it now. He didn’t; instead he chuckled.

“At this point that would hardly be the first sight, wouldn’t it? But let me re-phrase my question. Is it possible that romantic feelings will be involved? After you get to know each other properly and so?”

“I am not even sure if he… if he is interested me in that way… I just love spending time with him, and talking - it feels natural, and effortless. Even if it’s not romantic, I think it could turn into a great friendship.”

“Mate don’t give me that bs. Look at you, you’re blushing, you’re stammering. This is pure amazing. We are friends okay - you and I - and you don’t act like that when you talk about me. I am guessing you haven’t slept together yet?”

“I literally just told you that if it doesn’t work out as a relationship I’d like us to remain friends. So, no. Of course we haven’t.”

“Ah, I keep forgetting that you have this strange idea, that one cannot be friends with people they slept with.”

“That’s because I don’t treat sex as means of creating a mystical mind-body connection to expand one’s spiritual energy.” \

Manu’s lips spread into a blissful smile.

“You should try it one time. That is some really good sex,” he said dreamily, and then snapped his fingers. “But going back to the main topic. Tell me everything.”

“Everything?”

“How did you two meet? What’s he like? Hey don’t make that face. You can’t drop a bomb like that and expect me not be interested in every detail.”

Stefan sighed and began recounting the events of last weeks, starting from that memorable Tuesday, when one of his clients had moved the deadline and he ended up at Kofi’s. As he talked Manu’s eyes grew wider and his expression changed into that of incredulity.

“Mate, what in the world are you waiting for? This guy is clearly into you.”

“What makes you think so?”

“He says he doesn’t like sitting next to other people, then he invites you to share a table with him. He says he’s scared of performing in front of an audience, and right after that he says he could play for you. He gave you his phone number,” he emphasized the last two words.

“One person is hardly an audience. Maybe he’s just being nice.”

Manu inhaled as if he was about to deliver a lengthy reply to that statement but resigned, in the last moment. Then he just shook his head and laughed.

“No,” he answered shortly, still laughing. “That is so not the case.”

“What is so funny about it?”

“Never before have I seen you so anxious about asking someone out.”

“I know. I am actually kind of annoyed with myself because of that. It’s just that, for some reasons I really don’t want to fuck this up,” Stefan noticed his friend’s raised eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” Manu answered, his face a picture of innocence. “Text him. Say you can come today.”

“Where?”

“To the conservatory.”

“But…” Manu waved his hand, apparently guessing what Stefan was going to say.

“We can hang out any other time mate. I’m not going anywhere any time soon. Write the text, do it.”

“Like - now?”

“Yes. I’ll go to get myself more tea, and a beer for you, and the meantime you’ll write the message. Go!”

Stefan grunted but he reached to his pocket and pulled out his phone. He opened a new text message and stared at it for about thirty seconds. Whatever sentences came to his mind they all sounded incredible stilted and formal. Finally he produced the following:

 

_hi, it’s stefan. i’m free today so maybe i could drop by the conservatory, if that’s okay._

 

He added a smiley face, removed it, and added it again. He was about to remove it when Manu emerged from the kitchen.

“Leave that smiley face there,” he said, handing him the beer.

“Why?”

“It’s very you.”

“A smiley - face - emoji is very _me_?” he asked and Manu laughed, nodding.

“You do realize the conservatory is on the other side of the city” Stefan reminded him.

“I can drive you.”

“You are on mission now, aren’t you?”

“Nah, I am just a really good friend. And - unlike you - I do believe in love at first sight.”

***

Michael tried to finish the chapter he was reading, but he couldn’t concentrate on words. He kept glancing at his phone. He was in the reading room, in the library, obviously he’d had to switch the sound off, so every couple minutes he looked at it, waiting for the notification to show up on the screen.

Finally, his phone lit up momentarily, announcing a text message. He didn’t recognize the number, so when he reached for the device to unlock the screen, he was holding his breath. Then he read the message and released a shuddering sigh of relief… Hope? He wrote back.

_Of course it’s okay. Come over. I’m waiting._

_great! i’ll be there soon :)_

He stared at the ridiculously simplistic, happy emoji, his mind instantly recalling Stefan’s smile - the sweetest, brightest smile he’d ever seen, that Michael could swear, could light up his entire day. He couldn’t not for a moment believe that Stefan would ever think of himself as boring. He admired everything about him: how smart he was, and confident, aware of his goals in life, financially independent despite the young age. Like never before and with no one else, he felt comfortable in his company, at ease in his presence. Even more so, his world seemed somehow dimmer when Stefan wasn’t around.

The problem was that Stefan had not yet indicated openly that he was, in fact, interested in him in that way. Michael wasn’t sure if he was reading the signs right. He noticed lingering glances and well-covered nervousness, but that didn’t really have to mean anything. He didn’t want to ruin what they had by making a wrong assumption; he tried convincing himself that if not anything else, then they could at least have that amazing friendship. At the same time he knew that the moment he would hear the phrase 'maybe we should be just friends’ it would rip his heart into pieces. Even the thought of it hurt. No, if he were to be honest he didn’t want them to be friends.

There was a wealth of emotion within him - like an ocean; calm on the surface but within its depths dwelt powerful currents, forces that were able to cause torrential storms, hurricanes, or bring warmth to an entire continent. All his life he had channeled it into his music. It used to be his own. Now that someone managed to get inside of him and open him up - making him feel so elated, and the same time so vulnerable - he wanted these emotions to be shared, but most importantly he wanted his feelings to be reciprocated. And that made him afraid - afraid of going too far, too soon, and that it would be too much for Stefan, that he would overwhelm him, and he would end up scaring him off with his own emotional greediness.

He put down the phone, gathered his books and left the library. He headed to one of the practice rooms, the one that was unofficially assigned to him. It was a small chamber with grey walls - covered with soundproofing material for better insulation and good acoustics - an environment in which one could learn to grasp such subtle concepts as intonation, articulation, balance, dynamics and tonal differences.

Michael walked over to his piano, sat down, looked at the keys for a moment, inhaled. And then, he began to play.

The Impromptu in G flat burst from his mind to his hands, taking him over like a separate entity, waiting to come to life through him. Fluttering arpeggios continued to move underneath the melody, raising with intensity and falling down, blending in. His articulation was sure and practiced - touch of his fingers on the keys gentle yet powerful. It seemed effortless - like breathing. And it was.

He stopped only for a moment, and then his hands began moving again, the music flowed - Reflets dans l’eau. The sound was deep, cool, pellucid. The notes flowing from Michael’s fingers like rivulets of spring water running down a hillside. He closed his eyes and let himself be submerged into the glimmering sea of music. It enveloped him, filling hollow places inside of him; he felt like he was floating on gentle waves, free of gravity safe and warm, surrounded by calm, blue-turquoise depths. The last wide, open chord resounded, and Michael took his foot off the sustain pedal.

From behind him, someone clapped. He smiled, even before he turned to see him.

“Hey, how did you find me?” he asked watching Stefan come up to him.

“I asked around,” Stefan replied. “Everyone here seems to know you. You didn’t tell me that you are the star of the academy.”

“That’s because I’m not,” he objected. It was hard to think of yourself as a star if you couldn’t perform.

“Okay, okay. I get it. Be modest. But that was intense.”

“You liked it?” to his surprise that question came out almost shy. He had never before felt so exposed, when showing someone his talent. He realized he had never cared that much, not until now. Of course he valued his teachers’ opinions, but that had been impersonal - none of his teachers held his heart hostage.

“You’re kidding? I loved it.”

“Would you like to hear anything else?”

“Yes, yes I’d love to. I want more…I mean, I want to hear more. What else can you play?”

Michael looked at him and when their eyes locked, he said.

“Anything. Anything you want.”

***

He left the conservatory, trying to ignore the emotional whirlwind that visit had caused. He felt like he had fallen down a rabbit hole - it was just half an hour but felt like eternity - minutes stretched and the world outside fell away, the only thing left in existence was that room filled with Michael’s music and the quiet intesity of his gaze. He tried to calm down and think of anything else, but he knew he wouldn’t not be able to do it, and sooner or later he’d have to give in. When he closed his eyes the image was there, it seemed - already etched into his mind. Solid, black form of the piano becoming liquid, turning into lines, running parallel to the sounds; Michael’s hands - his fingers long and pale, on the smooth surface of they keys.

When he came back to his apartment, the first thing he did was turning on the TV and changing the channel to any kind of movie. He turned the volume up and sat down to work. Having the movie chattering in the background was enough to help him concentrate, at least for the time needed to complete the work he’d planned for that night. Once that was done, he turned the TV off with a remote control, and sat there for a couple of minutes, staring at his table: his laptop, sketching books, pens, pencils and markers, text-books, documents - all neatly arranged.

He could practically see that sly grin spreading over Kofi’s face.

"I’ll be damned,” he said to himself closing his computer.

Instead of going to sleep he went to the kitchen and made fresh pot of coffee, and pulled some rice crackers from the pantry. Then he opened his wardrobe, behind his clothes neatly arranged on hangers, against the back wall of the closet, rested something he had not used in a very long time - his easel and couple of empty canvas in different sizes. From the bottom drawer he took out a sketchbook, paints and brushes. He was already thinking about the right medium. Oil - too heavy. He could colour some of the sketches with water-colours and bold lines with ink. But for the bigger piece he chose acrylic: glossy and intense.

He set it all up in his living room. Folded the carpet, and spread two old, faded t-shirts on the floor. He put his laptop on the coffee table, found Reflets dans l’eau online and pressed 'play’. 

He kept sketching, drawing, mixing paints, and painting all night. When he went to bed outside the dawn was breaking…

He fell asleep, and slept past noon, dreaming of colours: ocean blue and gold; sunlight gleaming on the surface of water, flowing lines, and the sound of piano.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys might hate me a bit in the end ;D but stay with me, stay with me please ;)

Michael was beside himself.

Stefan didn’t come to the coffee shop on Saturday morning.

He didn’t stay there for more than a few minutes, he didn’t want to sit there alone. The emptiness in the spot next to him, the one Stefan always took, was almost tangible. He went back home and spent the entire day feeling utterly miserable. He didn’t even try to convince himself that he didn’t care – it was way too late for that. Instead, he went from bouts of being angry at himself for falling so easily to wondering about what he should do next.

The uncertainty was killing him. There were moments when he believed one word, one right move would be enough to lift the barrier between them, and turn that vaguely defined acquaintance into a potentially romantic relationship. But then on days like that one he felt completely confused and questioned everything: maybe he had been reading everything wrong all the time, maybe there was nothing there, and for Stefan they were just two barely-strangers who happened to like to talk to each other.

Michael knew that if that were the case he would have to go through a painful withdrawal process, and he would have only himself to blame. Already, he missed Stefan’s presence so much that it made him feel that hollow sinking sensation in his chest, like there was a heavy weight around his heart. He couldn’t even concentrate on playing so he ended up catching up on movies the entire evening, trying not to think about anything.

On Sunday morning he decided that he needed to stop wallowing in self-pity and do something productive – as physical effort is one the best way to distract oneself from overthinking – he chose to go to the gym. The one at the campus was closed due to renovation, which unfortunately left him with one option, unless he wanted to take a an hour long bus drive to the city center. He had to go to Speed and Balance. He used to be a member there, but he stopped going about a year ago. The gym itself was great, the problem was its owner.

His name was Gregor and he was something of a local celebrity - the only son of a wealthy investment banker. Thanks to his mother’s fortune he didn’t really have to work but he dabbled in several high-profile activities such as motor racing, modelling and of course dating beautiful, famous women. At some point, however, he got an assignment from his mother to open up some kind of business with only small amount of money to prove that he could make them, not only spend them.

Luckily for himself, and his concerned parent, Gregor turned out to possess quite the business acumen. He opened a state-of-the-art gym, hiring the best trainers in the area, and for two years he run it himself correctly assuming that he would be one of the gym’s top attractions. At first it seemed that the place was one, big testimony to his ego – it was filled with his trophies, walls were covered with posters and pictures of him, including pictures from his racing gigs portraying him shirtless and soaked in champagne.

However, what really drew people in, besides his fame and celebrity lifestyle, was that apart from being slightly narcissistic, Gregor was, in fact, a kind and generous guy who used major portion of his wealth to support charities, and was genuinely interested in other people and their needs.

Michael couldn’t say he didn’t like him, it was hard not to like Gregor - there was a disarming, childlike quality in his enthusiasm. Unfortunately he also happened to be extremely garrulous. The talkative, inquisitive aspect of his personality made him almost unbearable for people like Michael.

He did not mind people talking about themselves. That was one of the reason he liked Kofi so much; the barista only asked him one thing - what he wanted to order. He’d often sit down at his table and tell him stories about his culinary trips, or his past experience as an athlete, and that was very enjoyable because Andi had a great talent for storytelling, and his anecdotes were colorful and interesting.

Gregor didn’t just talk about himself. He kept asking questions. What do you do for living? Do you have siblings? Do you have pets? Do you have a car - what make of a car? Did you grow up here or somewhere else? What is your opinion on Italian food? Did you hear about what happened last week there and there - what do you think about it? iPhone or another brand? Facebook or Twitter? Have you ever considered getting a tattoo? What’s your favourite drink?

There was no end to them. Michael wondered whether he had lists of them memorized, or written down somewhere, because it seemed impossible to him that someone would be able to come up with so many questions all the time. Initially he’d tried to fend him off with his well proven strategy - giving people evasive, general answers that were polite but at the same time didn’t give much away. Most people after receiving few such answers got the message and stopped asking. Not Gregor. He would just follow up with additional, more detailed questions not dissuaded by Michael reticent attitude. Sister? Is she younger or older? Older - awesome - how much older? 12 years? Amazing. Do you guys get along?

The moment Michael had revealed the fact that he was a pianist he knew that he would never be left in peace again. For some reasons that had made a huge and lasting impression on Gregor, even though he knew absolutely nothing about classical music. Probably because Michael was in fact _the_ only pianist who ever went to his gym. From that day in Gregor ’s mind, they had become friends.

When he arrived at the gym, it was still quite early in the morning and Gregor was nowhere to be seen, which gave Michael hope that he might be able to avoid their meeting. After he finished his workout routine, he went to swim for about half an hour, then back to the changing room to take a shower and get dressed. He was about to leave the changing room when he heard Gregor’s laughter outside. He opened the door carefully and tried to sneak out without being noticed but Gregor intercepted him next to the reception desk. He was of course insanely happy to see him, and he wanted to know everything: why he hadn’t come for a year, what he was up to those days. When Michael moved towards the exist, he excitedly suggested.

“Wait, wait you’re gonna met my girlfriend.”

“Which one of your girlfriends?” Michael asked, at the same time realizing the question was a bit tactless.

“Excuse me, lots have changed since you’ve been here last time,” Gregor informed him grinning. “I have had one girlfriend for the last year, and I am not planning to change that. She’s there,” he pointed to the functional area, where in the corner a heavy punching bag was attached to a special frame. A woman with blond hair tight into a bun, was training in front of the bag, and she just performed a series punches and of kicks, including a jumping roundhouse kick and a spin back.

“Isn’t she amazing? Her name is Cara, she’s from Brazil. Twice the national champion in karate, now she’s training Muay Thai. If I cheated on her she would kill me and no one would ever find my body,” he informed with pride in his voice, apparently having a girlfriend who could – at least technically – kill him, was something to be proud of. “Nah man, my wild days are over. Which I don’t regret. I want to marry her actually, but get this - she doesn’t. Whenever I bring that up she says that no one in her family would ever be able to pronounce my last name. She’s got a point there. So I say to her, screw it - I’ll take your name. But no. She believes love doesn’t need to be signed on paper.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Michael offered a laconic comment.

“It is right? There is certain poetic justice to it,” Gregor agreed.

Since Gregor’s garrulity seemed to be, at least for the moment, directed at himself, Michael asked - even though he wasn’t really interested - how he and Cara met, and then patiently listed to the story of how they’d met in Brazil.

In the meantime, Cara disappeared in the changing room, only to emerge from it couple minutes later, wearing black denim jeans, simple white t-shirt and trainers. When she approached them Michael noticed that she was good, couple inches taller than Gregor; she had athletic, strong body with well-tones muscles, skin the colour of dark honey, and piercing green eyes. She spoke with a faint Brazilian accent.

Gregor introduced them, and right away she excused herself saying she had to leave. Before she did that, she turned to Gregor and asked.

“ _Amado,_ did you find the company to do the design for our new location?” she was referring to a new gym they were planning to open.

“No yet.”

“We got the meeting with the project engineer and financial planner on Friday. We have to give them something, even if it is just an initial estimate. Please, do it as fast as possible.”

“I am on it baby.”

“Oh, and make sure you find someone sensible. Architects often get carried away in their projects and come up with concepts that simply aren’t feasible.”

For a moment there Michael fought an internal battle. He really didn’t want to get involved, nor give Gregor any more reasons to think that they were friends. But Cara seemed to be a nice, down-to-earth person, and Michael had a feeling that if anyone was most likely to get carried away and accept a crazy architectural design - that was Gregor. And lastly that would give him a perfectly reasonable excuse to contact Stefan.

“I may know someone… sensible,” he offered. “I’m not sure whether they are available this week. I can ask and then send you their contact details.” Cara pulled out a business card from her gym bag.

“E-mail me please, once you know,” she asked, and then added with a much wider, warmer smile, “And if he keeps harassing you - tell me. I’ll get him out your hair.” 

“I’m not harassing anyone,” Gregor objected. “We’re friends, right?” he turned to Michael for confirmation. He seemed a bit hurt by that accusation and that immediately made Michael feel bad for being so dismissive of him.

“Yes, yes we are,” he agreed.

Cara winked at them.

“It was nice meeting you Michael,” she said and left.

“And? What do you think?” Gregor asked, watching her leave, beaming. “You should see her in a black, cocktail dress.”

“She’s nice but not my type..” Michael murmured and the moment these words left his mouth he regretted saying them.

“Oh? Gregor’s face immediately lit up with curiosity. "And what is your type? You’ve never -”

“I’m sorry, but I really have to go,” Michael interrupted him. “I’ll be late for the bus.”

“Oh! Sure. Go. Thanks for help. Man, if that works out, I’ll be so grateful. We’ll talk next time.”

Out in the street Michael exhaled with relief.

Back in his apartment he decided to text Stefan. He could call him, but that option still would’ve been awkward. Finally he composed quite a lengthy message informing Stefan that one of his acquaintances needed the help of an architect, and laying out all the details. At the end of the message he asked if he could give them Stefan’s number. The answer came swiftly and it was affirmative. And that was it. Michael stifled the nagging feeling of disappointment. Apparently he’d have to wait till Saturday, till their routine meeting at Kofi’s, hoping that Stefan was going to be there this time.

***

“No, no. That won’t do. You have to move this segment.”

“Why?”

Stefan was sitting at his table, finishing the last of three proposed designs for Gregor’s gym. Manu hoovered over him with a glass of water in his hand, from time to time pointing out minor errors.

“Where is this entire installation supposed to go huh? All that cabling? And that part here looks very pretty but in that wall you’re gonna have pipes going nowhere. Rearrange this.”

“Also these numbers are wrong – I corrected them for you,” he said handing him material specs sheet, and sitting down.

Part of Manu’s exceptional math skills was that he could do advanced calculation in his head – an ability which earned him awed respect of many of his fellow students during his time at the university. Naturally when Stefan had told him about that ASAP assignment he’d offered to help.

Stefan took the paper sheet and looked at it, frowning displeased.

“Damn it, how did I miss it.” 

“Hey I get it. You’re distracted. It’s understandable.”

“It’s unprofessional.”

“Even the most professional and reliable people such as yourself can become distracted sometimes. Especially when they have some unresolved matters on their mind.”

Stefan gave him a flat stare.

“You know what you should do.”

“Are seriously going to tell me that I should get laid?”

“No!” Manu laughed “I was going to say – you should tell Em about your feelings. But clearly you have something else on your mind!”

“Let’s finish this, okay?” Stefan suggested embarrassed, feeling the redness spreading over his cheeks.

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say. You want some cold water?”

“Fuck off.”

“Not an option. You know what else I think?”

“I don’t but I’m sensing you’re going to tell me whether I like it or not.”

“The only reason you’ve suddenly became hesitant about this thing is because you got scared of the intensity of your own feelings.”

Stefan continued frowning, not saying anything cause he couldn’t really deny Manu’s assessment.

“He’s immeasurable,” Manu went on. “What’s between you two cannot be reduced to set of scalable parameters. You’re probably overanalyzing it now, trying to find a logical explanation to how can you feel so strongly about someone you’ve barely met.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Let it go and un-structure myself?”

“If by _let it go_ you mean accept what you feel is real and valid than yes. Un-structure - no. Think about it that way – what if your structure is what he needs and his intensity is what you need. There is nothing better in construction than two elements that fit together perfectly creating a balanced form while supporting each other.”

When Manu left, Stefan thought about everything he’d said, and he had to admit most of it was true. The thought of having Michael and having the right to call him his own was incredibly thrilling. He liked that Michael was willing to give his undivided attention, he found it flattering that someone so beautiful, talented and – his opinion – so special seemed to be attracted to him. At the same time he knew that if he decided to make that move, his so far predictable and well-organized life would change. There were moments when he felt like he was standing at the edge of a large lake knowing that if he plunged into its deep, dark waters he might drown. He could feel the pull even when they weren’t together. Part of him feared taking that risk and leaving the safety of the shore, but at the same time he longed to walk into the lake and slowly let himself be submerged in it.

Last Saturday he had missed their morning meeting at Kofi’s and felt restless ever since. His excellent visual memory helped as he could recall Michael in his mind with all the detail; sharp angles of his face, the way they changed when he talked, the line of his shoulders and neck…But it even that was not enough. He yearned to see him. He yearned for more…

Twirling a pencil in his fingers, thoughtfully he glanced behind to the living room where the covered easel stood. Maybe Manu was right? Maybe Andi had been right all along?

He took the material spec spreadsheet with Manu’s thorough corrections and transferred them to the file on his laptop. Lastly he printed everything out, placed the documents and technical drawings in three separate binders, and singed them. He picked up his phone and wrote a message to Michael.

_your friends are very nice :) that gym is pretty awesome too, gregor almost gave a lifetime free membership_

The answer came ten minutes later.

/Did he ask you about your shoe size? Or maybe your star sign?/

_haha, we talked about cars, he wanted to know how we know each other_

/Of course, what did you tell him?/

_that a mutual friend introduced us, most inquisitive individual i’ve ever met_

/Indeed, he is. Will it be possible to prepare these estimates for them in such a short time?/

_i’ve already finished :)_

/Amazing/

_hardly ;P_

/Are you going to send it all today?/

_these are actually three thick binders, so i am gonna deliver them personally, on friday_

/That’s a long ride for you isn’t it? I’ll be there on Friday. I could take them with me. We could meet up at Kofi’s. Or, if you’re busy, I could drop by your place and pick them up./

_wouldn’t that be a long ride for you?_

/No. I’m at school now. It’s not that far./

_well that’d great :) i’m home now, you can come anytime, do you know where i live?_

/I remember the bus stop, just send me the address. In about an hour?/

_perfect_

Before he put down his phone, he read their entire exchange two times to be sure he got it right. He shook his head incredulously.

Well, now he had about an hour to decide in what manner he was going to tell Michael about his feelings.

***

Michael smiled getting of the bus. Of course he remembered that stop; that morning sunlight, the sound of Mozart’s violin concert, and Stefan standing there with his mug. He had no trouble at all finding the right address.

When the door opened, his smile got wider. In his own apartment Stefan looked even tinier; he was wearing grey sweat pants, and black t-shirt, his hair was bit messy.

“Um, you came all the way…maybe you’d like to come in and drink something?” he suggested and Michael was more than happy to accept. He stepped in, took of his jacket and left his bag by the door.

Stefan’s apartment looked exactly the way he imagined it would; neat, organized, practical but at the same time warm and inviting. The kitchen - or actually a tiny, kitchen corner was separated from the living room only by a table. The living room though was spacious with very little furniture in it, only one book shelf and low, long cabinet for the electronic devices; router, decoder, blu-ray. Above them on the wall hung a flat TV. There rest was honey-coloured oak panels on the floor, fluffy white carpet, beige sofa and a coffee table. 

Michael was surprised to see the easel, paints and brushes.

“I thought you said, you weren’t a painter?”

“Oh, um. I kinda started painting again recently…” Stefan answered, for some reasons, sounding embarrassed. He seemed nervous and a bit distracted, like his thoughts were focused on something else. “What would you like? Tea, coffee, beer?”

“Beer would be great.”

Left alone for a moment Michael looked around. He noticed a small CD collection, and started reading the names nodding in approval: Queen, Dire Straits, Eric Clapton, Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Cranberries, and …Maroon 5, One Republic, Daft Punk, Amy Winehouse.

He glanced at the easel. It was covered, and although he was curious to see what was underneath, he didn’t even for a second consider removing the cover. Maybe the painting wasn’t finished yet. Or maybe Stefan didn’t want to show it anyone.

On the coffee table he saw a large book - Builders of the Pacific Coast – unsurprisingly architecture related. The cover featured objects and housed made of driftwood. Out of curiosity he picked it up and opened it. When he did a bunch of sketches fell out and scattered onto the floor.

He crouched to pick them up and…

His heart skipped a beat.

The book he had just opened was filled with sketches of him. They were masterful - every stroke indication of sure and experienced hand. They captured him playing: the intensity, the feeling, expression of concentration on his face. His sharp nose, jaw line and chin. Couple of them pictured just his hands on the keyboard and somehow captured the dynamic motion of playing. But the most amazing part where his eyes - the light and colours seemed to be spilling out of them.

Michael stared at the drawings stunned and speechless.

After a moment he heard soft step to his left and moved his eyes to look to that side. He saw Stefan and realized that the other man was holding his breath. He was trembling slightly and looked uncertain.

“I hope you don’t think that’s creepy,” he said.

“God no,“ Michael assured him looking back at the drawings. There was something mesmerizing about them; they way the colours, soft and almost translucent, merged with strong black lines. He wanted to tell him that they were captivating but that would sound too self-adulatory, so he said: "Actually, I am flattered. I’d never assumed that someone would think it was worth their time to draw me. I wish I’d look like that.”

“You do.” Michael turned his head sharply to look at him again.

“No,” he protested. “These are…they are beautiful.”

“So are you…” Stefan responded softly, blushing. He didn’t look away, and made one timid step forward.

Their eyes were locked, but Stefan's eyes just for a moment, flicked down to Michael’s mouth, then back up - and for Michael that was it. The cue he had been waiting for. He couldn’t hold it back any longer. He put down the drawing, closed the distance between them, cupped Stefan’s face in his hands and kissed him.


	5. Chapter 5

Stefan closed the fridge and was about to go back to the living room, when he saw Michael opening the book and the sketches falling out. His heart began to beat faster. So fast that he could hear his pulse in his ears. He left the beer on the table and slowly walked towards the center of the living room, stopped couple paces away from Michael, trying to assess his reaction. Was he angry? Was he freaked out? What was going to happen now? He realized his mouth went dry and that he was shaking.

“I hope you don’t think that’s creepy,” he said, his voice came out a bit hoarse.

“God no,“ Michael answered and Stefan felt relief flooding him.

"Actually, I am flattered. I’d never assumed that someone would think it was worth their time to draw me. I wish I’d look like that.”

He wanted to tell him that none of them came close to how beautiful he was, no sketch nor painting ever could.

“You do.” Michael looked at him, and said.

“No. These are…they are beautiful.”

Between heartbeats Stefan made the decision. It was now or never.

“So are you…” he responded softly, feeling the blush spreading over his cheeks. Unable to look away, he stepped forward. He wanted the distance between to disappear but he was still waiting for Michael’s reaction. Inadvertently he glanced down at his lips… And then, there it was - that intensity in Michael’s eyes, like hunger, and then his hands were on his face, and his lips on his mouth…

His knees felt weak and shivers shot down his spine. 

After a moment Stefan turned his head for a slightly different angle, grasped handfuls of his Michael’s hair to pulled him deeper into his mouth. Their tongues met and they both moaned into the kiss. Michael leaned forward and with his both arms he enveloped Stefan’s thin frame, holding him close as they continued to slide their lips together. 

When they run out of breath, Michael pulled back for a moment, searching Stefan’s face, panting lightly.

“God, I wanted to do this,” he breathed. He kept one of his arms around Stefan’s waist, and with the other he touched his face again, his thumb smoothing his cheek.

“I’m glad you did.” They stared at each other for a while, neither daring to move. Michael’s eyes were wide now, lips reddened from kissing. Stefan felt lightheaded; no one had ever looked at him with so much adoration and passion, it was new and exhilarating. Michael brushed Stefan’s bottom lip with his thumb, and then he kissed him deeply. Stefan felt, more than he heard, Michael sigh, while eagerly accepting and returning the action. He could feel Michael’s arms begin to tremble slightly as they continued kissing… lost to everything but the contact between their bodies…

 

*

Next day morning Stefan woke up before the alarm clock went off. He woke up smiling. Stretching lazily, he sat up and leaned against the head rest. Almost right away his hands traveled up to his mouth, and he touched his lips with the tips of his fingers, tracing the still lingering sensation of what happened last night. Then he looked to the side of his bed and smoothed the empty sheets wishing that Michael was there, so he could roll over and embrace him. He wanted to thread his hands through his hair - remembering how glorious it was to touch; breathe him in, and taste him again.

Last night, for a moment there, it seemed like they were going to go all the way. It had been probably the most amazing way anyone had ever kissed him; sweet and hot, urgent, igniting the blood in his veins. Damn, he wanted to do it. If he had had any doubts before they were all gone the moment they kissed.

It was Michael who took a step back. It seemed like he suddenly realized he might have gone too far and retreated.

Stefan was done over-analyzing. It no longer mattered to him whether it was too soon or not, whether they got to know each other properly. It felt right - he could take it from there. Something about Michael’s behaviour last evening, made him realize that he was in much more control over this situation. He might have been a bit concerned about how his feelings for Michael would influence his life and perhaps change him, but Michael seemed to be _terrified_ of pouring out too much and leaving the safety of his inner world… while at the same time he clearly wanted it.

Stefan’s smile became broader. He was after all a task-oriented person. Now that he was certain about what _he_ wanted, he had his task cut out for him. He fished out his phone from underneath the comforter, tapped on the screen, and send a message. Then he got up to get ready for spending the entire day at the university.

 

*

For one frightening night Michael thought he had ruined everything even before it had the chance to start for good. He cursed himself for it. He knew all too well it was the same mechanism that prevented him from reaching his full potential as a performer.

Why did he have to be so bloody apprehensive? Always trotting along the borders of his safety zone.

He was the one who had practically invited himself into Stefan’s apartment, he kissed him first, only to back out in the end. It must have looked like he couldn’t make up his goddamned mind. But he had made up his mind. He wanted Stefan in his life, he wanted to give him _everything_. Those past weeks had been the happiest he could remember. Last night, holding Stefan in his arms, kissing him - it had been divine. 

And now, as silly as it was, instead of actually doing something, he was waiting for Stefan to reassure him that everything was okay and give him a chance to fix it.

At eight in the morning his phone lit up with a text. The message consisted of three symbols: a sun, a heart and a smile. Stefan was the sender.

So he got his chance. Or maybe he hadn’t lost the first one yet.

He replied immediately.

_Good morning sweetness. I hope you slept well._

/quite well actually :) and it is indeed a good morning, but do you know what would make it even better?/

_What could that be?_

/if you were here with me…/

_I will. Next time. I promise._

/i will be waiting… :)/

 

*

Even though they both really wanted to they couldn’t see each other for the next two days because of work and studying. Stefan couldn’t miss the Thursday lecture marathon, the final exam on that subject was soon approaching and he didn’t trust anyone else to make appropriately detailed notes from those lectures. On Friday he had a meeting with his thesis supervisor, one of the most renowned professors working at the faculty, who was an affable and approachable person while a great teacher, but had precious little time, so that meeting couldn’t be moved. On Saturday he had yet another important meeting with one his clients - to wrap up and on-going project. For the next year Stefan was going to take less commissions, now that Manu was back in the country he would take on part of his responsibilities, so that Stefan would be able to concentrate on writing his master’s thesis. That Saturday meeting, however, had been planned for the afternoon, so Stefan suggested they could meet as usually at Kofi’s on Saturday morning, and Michael, naturally, agreed.

*

When they walked in a surprise awaited them.

The person standing behind the counter wasn’t Julia, who as it turned out had to take a day off, but Andi himself. He shook his head when he saw them come in together and greeted them with a smug smile, but didn’t not comment nor ask about anything when he took their order. They both thought that at least once he was going to give them a break.

They sat down at their favourite table, the one in the corner where they first met. Soon Andi appeared with a tray carrying two cups of coffee, their breakfast and… two pieces of his famous cheesecake. It was a light as a feather, fluffy, with thin layer of white chocolate on the top, sprinkled generously with strawberry sauce. They didn’t order it.

Stefan frowned, but before he asked, Andi said.

“It’s on the house. Enjoy.”

“Why?”

“Because I am nice like that,” Andi replied and left whistling.

Michael sighed.

“Look,” he pointed to the cheesecake. On each plate right next to the piece of cake there was a big heart drawn with the strawberry sauce. Stefan rolled his eyes, and then sent Andi a look of impatient disapproval; the barista just winked at him happily from behind the counter.

This time their morning meeting was quieter than usual. Michael still felt a little bit unsure as to where they were standing after that blatant display of indecisiveness. Stefan didn’t seem upset with him, quite the contrary. Even though they didn’t talk much, they kept exchanging long glances, brushing their arms against each other, seeking to touch each other’s hand, and stealing strawberry flavoured kisses.

They were about to kiss again, when Stefan - who was sitting with his left side to the window - caught a glimpse of colour in the street in his peripheral vision. He glanced that way and noticed a tall, all-too familiar, figure walking languidly towards the entrance.

“What the hell…? What is he doing here?”

Michael followed his line of sight.

“That colourful guy - you know him?”

“Yeah. I do. And you are about to get to know him too.”

In the meantime Manu had already walked in, spotted them and strolled - he always walked like he had all the time in the world - to their table, smiling. As usually he was wearing one of his crazy-coloured harem pants and a large, linen bag with an elephant head embroidered on it.

He grabbed himself a chair and placed it in front Stefan’s table. He looked like someone who just found out that they had won a lottery.

“May I?” he asked, still grinning. Stefan really wanted to kick him.

“Sure,” he agreed with a smile that said ‘I will kill you later.’ Manu ignored him. He turned to Michael and his eyes grew bigger with wonder.

“Manuel, the friend and business partner,” he introduced himself with great courtesy, pointing to Stefan with his open hand. “You must be Michael. It’s a pleasure to make the acquaintance,” they both got up for a second to shake hands, and sat down again.

“Likewise, ” Michael responded frowning, a bit confused by what seemed to be Manu’s star-struck reaction to him. As you usually he decided to deflect the attention away from himself. "I hope you don’t mind me asking - the accent?“

"Australian. Born and raised in the Land Down Under. And yes I did surf, although I have never particularly loved it. Baby kangaroos are very cure, but grown up kangaroos are bat-shit crazy and scary, you should not engage in boxing matches with them,” Manu recited keeping a straight face.

Michael laughed, and Stefan relaxed visibly.

“Where in Australia?”

“Sydney.”

“All right, this might be as annoying as the standard surfing/kangaroo questions but I have to ask - have you been to the Opera House.”

“Yes, a couple of times actually. It’s amazing. From what I know you might perform there one day.”

“I don’t, I don’t think so…,” Michael replied, and again changed the subject. "Stefan told me that you have been to India?“

"That’s right. I have just come back. Actually I brought some original spices and tea for Andi. That’s why I’m here,” the last part was directed at Stefan who raised a skeptical eyebrow, in response.

“I’m gonna go now,” Manu announced. "I’ll leave you guys alone before Stefan stabs me with a fork,“ he added, laughing. "Once again, it was nice meeting you. Have a good day you two.” With that he got up and went straight to the counter, followed by Stefan’s suspicious gaze.

“You know what,” Stefan turned to Michael, still frowning and slightly annoyed. “Let’s go” he suggested.

Since they were pretty much done with their food, they finished their drinks, and after few minutes they left.

When they were gone out the door, Andi and Manu, who were intently watching them leave, looked back at each other with triumphant smiles.

“Two weeks ago this guy was all we’re-gonna-be-friends, and look at them now,” Manu remarked.

“Mission accomplished,” Andi declared with satisfaction.

“Good job,” Manu congratulated.

“Well done yourself.”

“Always glad to help.”

They exchanged a fist bump and laughed.

*

“I have to forewarn you,” Stefan stated when they were out in the street, walking to the bus stop, holding hands. “We may have to go through couple more embarrassing introductions such as that one…”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Michael assured him.

“That’s because that moron Manu at least tried to be inconspicuous, and yet you could still see that he was all giddy and happy.”

“He did seemed excited,” Michael admitted. “What was that about?”

“Well, he was very excited to meet you.”

“Me?”

“I’m afraid you’re already something of a legend among my friends and family.”

“Why?”

“Some time ago they have collectively decided that I will never be with anyone again, and I will end up alone, dead and partially devoured by a dog. ”

Michael laughed shaking his head incredulously.

“That’s a bit dramatic,” he noted.

“Especially considering that I’m a cat person who lives in a small apartment, and I probably wouldn’t even buy an Alsatian.”

“And you’re not a charming mess like Bridget Jones. Well, charming - yes, but not a mess.”

“Thank you. On both counts,” Stefan said nodding with appreciation as they both laughed.

They stopped when they reached the bus stop. They had to part there because each one was about to go different direction.

“Anyway,” Stefan continued, turning to stand in front of Michael, but no letting go of his hand. “They wrote me off as a basket case. Then you came along and everything changed. Not only did I decide that I want to be in a relationship in the most express mode I ever have, but I also started painting. Everyone agreed it’s a miracle.”

Michael stared at him for a moment.

“So… you don’t think it’s too soon, or too much?” finally he asked so softly that it came out almost as a whisper.

“No,” Stefan replied sincerely and then he repeated, with a toss of his head “No.”

He lifted his free hand and touched Michael’s face.

“I know what we have is real, and I believe we can build something beautiful together. But I understand you’re afraid. We can take small steps…”

“I am an idiot, “ Michael interrupted him. “I don’t want take small steps, and I shouldn’t be afraid. You make it so easy for me.”

“What do I make easy?”

“Being in love with you.”

Stefan’s response was a radiant smile, that lit up his entire face and eyes; he inched his chin upwards to reach to Michael’s mouth and kissed him slowly, slowly…They both sighed in delight.

“About that other night..” Michael began, when they parted.

“Hey it’s okay,” Stefan put two fingers on his lips to stop him from apologizing. “Nothing’s lost,” he added giving him another warm, bright smile.

“Can I make it up to you?”

“Well you can come over tonight and try…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has a slightly different structure, a bit disjointed to reflect how the characters feel about that "to and fro" that happened between them; michael just had complicate things - he's a trouble maker this one ;) also, not to give you any spoilers but... you guys know what's coming ;)


	6. Chapter 6

On the way to Stefan’s apartment he listened to Rachmaninoff’s second piano concert. He picked it because it was one of the most touching pieces of music ever made in the whole world. First the silky, smooth richness of that quiet intro to the Adagio sostenuto. Perfect. In the end the piano itself leads into that romantic theme, filled with yearning - the one that was even made into a rock ballad* at some point because so many people loved it so much. Perhaps the reason why, was that when they listened to it, they felt the same way he felt in this moment - like a brimming cup, full to the point of overflowing - needing someone to drink from him.

Standing in front of the door to Stefan’s apartment he heard his soft steps on the other side. The door opened and Michael crossed in from the hallway. Just like the first time he’d been here, he dropped his bag, took of his jacket, followed Stefan to the living room.

Except now Stefan wasn’t nervous. He was smiling and reached out to him, took his hands and pulled him in.

“You see it’s just like nothing happened,” he said. “We’re in the same place, it’s almost the same time…”

“We can forget about those two days,” Michael suggested.

"Oh but I don’t want to forget them," Stefan protested with a small, winsome smile. “You’ve told me so many nice things within last forty eight hours,” he added tilting his head slightly to the side.

“Have I now?" Michael already loved where this was going.

"Mm-hmm.”

“What did you like the most?”

“That part when you told me you were in love with me was pretty nice,” Stefan replied with an expression on his face that was somehow both coy and playful. “And…last time you were here, you said ‘I wanted to do this’…”

“Yes.”

“What did you mean? Exactly?”

“I wanted to hold you,” Michael answered pressing his hand into Stefan’s lower back. Even though the fabric of his t-shirt he could feel that Stefan shivered under his touch. “I wanted your lips, I wanted to taste you. It was driving me crazy, every time I saw you bit on your lower lip I wanted to …”

Stefan didn’t let him finish, with his hands on Michael’s shoulders he pulled him down and pressed their lips together.

And Michael let him drink from his mouth, he let him drink what was overflowing. He loved it so much, Stefan ’s dark eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he kissed him. It was so much better when could feel his hands in his hair guiding him gently, keeping him right there, and he could stop thinking. There was nothing else. It was Rachmaninoff playing in his mind, and Stefan in his arms, and he knew he wouldn’t leave, not tonight, not ever.

*

Stefan took Michael’s hand and, not breaking the eye contact, pulled him towards the bedroom. He felt thrilled and impatient, he felt butterflies in his stomach - like he was about unwrap the most exquisite gift ever.

When they got to there, Michael sat down on the edge of the bed, and pulled him onto his lap. Stefan wound his arms around his neck, slowly threading his fingers through his hair, he smiled down at him and kissed him. And they were kissing and kissing, lips moving in sync.

He couldn’t get enough of him, he just couldn’t.

After a moment he pulled away long enough to strip himself of his t-shirt, throwing it carelessly to the floor while Michael gazed at him. The intensity of that gaze made him feel even more excited and aroused. He reached for the hem of Michael’s sweatshirt and pulled it off him. He loved how Michael ’s hair got tousled by that action, golden strands falling over his forehead. Then he leaned down, biting Michael’s lip softly before letting his eyes roam over his body - lithe and fair. He took the time to run his hands up and down Michael’s chest, tracing the lines of his shoulders and arms with his fingers - like a sculptor admiring the perfection of his own creation.

“Work of art,” he murmured, awe mixing with desire in his voice.

Ghost of smile ran over Michael’s face, and in response he leaned forward, kissed him and then moved to suck a kiss high up on Stefan’s neck, eliciting a sigh followed by whimper. Stefan lifted his hand to press it on the nape of Michael’s neck for more. Then whimper that escaped his lips turned into a moan when Michael lowered his head to capture his nipple in his mouth, kissing and flicking it over with his tongue.

Every touch, every caress had him wanting more, the desire building up in him with each passing moment.

Reluctantly he pulled away for a moment, and got up, just to quickly get rid of his sweats and underwear, then he unzipped Michael’s jeans and slid them down along with his boxer briefs. He crouched to pick up a small jar from the floor just underneath the edge of the bed.

Hastily he crawled back onto Michael’s lap straddling him, and pressed himself closer to him so there was no space between them. Their bare skin touched and Michael pulled him into another hungry kiss, sucking on Stefan’s bottom lip; his hands swept over Stefan’s thighs, his ass, travelling up to his lower back and to the space between his shoulder blades, and then down again.

When they both couldn’t wait anymore Stefan turned his attention to Michael’s naked cock. He scooped some lubricant from the jar, and first he touched the delicate flesh lightly, just feeling the heat and the shape of him, next he rubbed the gel all over his length.

Slowly he lowered himself down, murmuring in delight at the pleasant stretching sensation. They both gasped when he got him all the way in and they didn’t move for a few seconds. Then Stefan put his hands around Michael’s shoulders and he started to move, raising up slightly only to sink back down. He was in control of the pleasure it didn’t take him long to pick up a rhythm. He kept is slow at first savouring the feeling; he could feel Michael tremble underneath him and he felt his every twitch deep within him. He moaned softly with every roll of his hips, as his whole body responded to the jolt of pleasure spiraling out from the deeply seated nerves.

It got even better when Michael encircled Stefan’s back with his arms, and tucked his face underneath his chin. Stefan could feel his breath hot and wet on his skin. Michael began licking and sucking at his neck, as he continued to ride his cock. When the pace quickened he dug his finger into Stefan’s waist, the friction and the heat, causing his breath to come out in short, jagged gasps. Soon a thin, film of sweat started forming on their skin and their hair were getting damp, after a while they were both panting with effort.

At some point Stefan gently pushed Michael onto the bed and rolled them over, pulling him on top of himself. Michael looked down at him and they smiled at each other. With his hands placed on either side of Stefan’s head now he had the leverage. When he got inside of him again, Stefan grunted and frowned shutting his eyes momentarily, so he immediately froze, looking at him, searching his face for any further sign of discomfort or pain. But Stefan gave him another smile and a short encouraging nod.

Tentatively at first, he began to rock into him. One of Stefan’s hands had fallen over his head, so Michael moved his hand and locked their fingers together. His thrusts were slow but strong like tidal waves crushing over the shore. Stefan sighed relishing in the feeling of being connected, with Michael sheathed entirely in his body and the careful weight he pressed down on him.

After a moment he caught Michael’s eyes and whispered.

“Don’t hold back…”

In response Michael pushed a little harder, and Stefan’s breath was cut with a moan. He sank fingers of his free hand into his back - Michael hit the spot that had his legs tightening around him as pleasure shot through him.

Michael pressed his forehead in the nook between Stefan’s neck and shoulder, and he gradually started to pick up the pace. Stefan’s body felt hotter and hotter with every second, the pressure building up. He lifted his legs and moved his feet to hook them on Michael’s lower back, grinding against his hips, pulling him closer, pulling him in deeper, breathing in heavy pants as more moans escaped him.

When his thrusts started to become more powerful and more erratic, he sensed that Michael was getting close. Stefan felt the he was himself on the edge.

He realized he wanted to see Michael’s expression in the moment of release. Freeing his hand, his fingers threading into the golden hair, he cradled the back of Michael’s head and with his both hands he pulled it up, so that he could look into his face. They were now inches apart, their lips almost brushing, breath hot and shaky.

Stefan’s limbs began to tremble, so hard he was nearly vibrating, the exhilarating heat coiling deep within his body was about to erupt. When it did, his back arched, his head fell back against the pillows and his mouth opened in a quiet scream.

The orgasm was engulfing, blissful, bone-melting - full body experience which melded with his emotions, and continued to sweep through him in strong surges carrying him through the tide.

Then, even though he was still dazed, he lifted his head up again, to look at Michael. He came soon after with a cry, as his body shuddered, his eyes closed, brows knitted, face contorted due to the intensity of the pleasure, hands gripping the bed sheets tightly. He didn’t pull away, he kept thrusting more slowly, and even more slowly until their orgasms ceased into a calming wake.

In the sweet, lazy haze of the aftermath Stefan reached up to caress that beautiful face above him. Michael’s arms were shivering and he was still recovering his breath. There was something about his eyes, that earlier intensity replaced with a different emotion, which made him seem vulnerable. It gave Stefan an irresistible urge to hold him.

So when Michael finally pulled away from his body and lied down next to him, he did; he wrapped his arms around him - Michael eagerly giving in to his embrace - and whispered into his ear.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he pressed light, gentle kisses on his temple.

Michael hugged him tightly in response.

“I need you,” he murmured.

“It’s okay,” Stefan repeated even more softly. “I’m here, my beautiful, I’m with you.”

He felt Michael smiling against his neck.

“And I’m with you.”

Stefan couldn’t - he didn’t want to leave him alone now, so he discarded the thought of taking a shower. Instead he reached for the comforter, which had slid halfway over the edge of bed, and pulled it over their naked bodies.

They fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *the song is called "all by myself" by eric carmen, the verse is based on the second movement of rachmaninoff's piano concerto No. 2; it was also recorded by celine dion
> 
> i might have been listening to a song called "close" by nick jonas while writing this chapter, just saying.... ;)
> 
> comments are welcomed guys - don't be shy :D


	7. Chapter 7

The sun was up and filtering in through the blinds in the window. Stefan stirred and rolled over to put his head on Michael’s chest and his arm around his waist. It made Michael’s heart flutter, that simple gesture as meaningful as everything that happened last night. He moved his arm carefully, and slowly put it around Stefan’s shoulders, as if he was afraid to break that precious moment with a too sudden motion. He nuzzled into his hair, breathing in his scent. He closed his eyes. He still couldn’t believe that it was happening, that he was here and he had this man in his arms.

He owed it to Stefan. From the moment he had stepped through the door he had been with him every step of the way, he knew exactly what to do and what to say to make him feel safe. Michael could not express how grateful he was for that.

After a moment Stefan lifted his head.

“Good morning” he said smiling already, his eyes just a bit puffy from sleep.

“Is it good?” Michael asked.

“It’s perfect.” He leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Then, gently, he slid out of Michael’s embrace, and sat up.

“I’ll take a quick shower, and then I’ll make us breakfast,”

“I’m getting a breakfast?”

“Well you’ve earned it” Stefan declared. “That was quite a performance, maestro,” he added with an impish smile.

Michael laughed.

“You were amazing yourself.”

“I know,” Stefan agreed with a mockingly nonchalant head tilt. “But thank you all the same.”

He leaned forward to kiss him again, and then he got up. He went to the living room, picking up various items of clothing on the way, and disappeared in the bathroom. He returned less then ten minutes later wearing sweats and t-shirt carrying Michael’s bag which he placed on the bed.

“Your turn,” he dropped and left for the kitchen.  

Michael emerged from the shower about a quarter later. He was welcomed by the smell of coffee and toasted bread. Radio was on, volume turned low. Stefan was standing by the oven putting a frying pan on one of the heaters, humming softly. Michael walked over to him, hugged him from behind, resting his chin on Stefan’s shoulder. He’d never told him that, but he delighted in the fact, that the height difference between them made Stefan an ideal snug fit for him

“Hey, you’re distracting me,” Stefan complained.

“I’m sorry, ” he murmured, before kissing Stefan’s neck enjoying the way he shivered in response.

“No, you’re not,” Stefan laughed. “Scrambled eggs or fried eggs?”

“Whatever you choose.”

“No, tell me. I wanna know what you prefer.”

“Fried.”

“Over-easy or sunny side up?”

“The latter.”

“Duly noted. Now go, make yourself useful and pour the coffee. Mugs are there,” he pointed to one of the cupboards.

Michael followed the instruction, he found the mugs easily. While pouring the coffee, he looked around the kitchenette. It was tiny but everything in it was organized down to a T: cutlery rested neatly in a drawer insert, spices were sealed with clips, and placed in special compartments, dishes arranged by size and type. He was sure that if he opened the fridge he’d see plastic containers stacked tightly one on top of the other, and each shelf assigned to different type of foods.  

Stefan approached him carrying two plates with nicely smelling, yellow-white content. He placed them on the table, next to forks that already waited there.

“Having seconds thoughts?” he asked, noticing Michael’s expression of mild astonishment.

“God no, I am admiring your orderliness.”

“I comes with the job,” Stefan shrugged, pulling out bread from the toaster.

They sat down and ate quietly.

*

When they finished eating, they poured themselves more coffee and moved to the living room. They sat on the couch next to each other, sideways; Stefan was holding a mug in one of his hands. 

Michael turned to him and Stefan looked into his eyes searching for any traces of the last night’s insecurity and fear. He was still thinking about it. Their morning was as joyful as one could wish for, and he knew that bringing that up may spoil that perfect mood, but at the same time he had a strong feeling, that this was something he shouldn’t ignore.

“Michael,” he began tentatively. “I hope… I hope I didn’t push you into doing something you were not comfortable with,” he began.

Seeing how the other man sighed heavily, made him sure that Michael knew right away what he was talking about.  

“My sweet, you have been nothing but wonderful and supportive,” he assured him. “I’m just like that…” he trailed off.

Stefan covered his hand with his and massaged it lightly with his thumb. Michael must have interpreted it as encouragement because he continued.

“You know, I’d rather leave some space for that other person… because when I become attached to someone, and I let myself go, I can get… very clingy and needy. To the point of suffocating.”

Stefan listened intently, and when he heard the last part he frowned. It might have been that he hadn’t known Michael for a long time, but he was quite certain that ‘clingy’ was the last word he’d use to describe him. Also something about the way Michael said it made him suspicious. It felt like he was quoting; Stefan knew very few people who had the introspective ability to give themselves such harsh assessment. That left only one option.

“Who told you that?” he asked.

“Mmm… I just - I just figured it out,” Michael answered evasively but the hurt in his eyes so clear that Stefan felt his heart shrank. Michael’s reaction was enough for an answer. Stefan put down his mug onto the coffee table and moved closer to him.

“It was your previous partner, wasn’t it?” he suggested carefully.

Michael looked away, pursing his lips and nodded.

“He used to say that whenever we argued,” he spoke after a moment. “And we fought a lot so he said that quite often,” it was clear that it was still difficult for him to talk about it. “He’d say that I didn’t give him enough space, that I had to learn to respect his boundaries, that I was too involved… But then he could get so insanely mean, capricious and demanding. Then I’d get stubborn and possessive. It was a mess, constant drama, and it ended horribly.”

Stefan knew that type; he had never been with someone like that but had seen them in action. He internally berated himself. They should have had that conversation earlier. He should have been more careful. He knew that now he had to find the right words to say, and he had to choose them wisely.

 "And…you’re afraid that if you don’t hold back, then it will end up the same with me?“

Michael looked him in the eyes, Stefan again felt his heart shrinking. That vulnerability was there again - bare and open.

"I am afraid that I’m going to lose you …,” his voice came out raspy, and low as always when he spoke trying to control his emotions. “And that would break my heart beyond remedy.”

Stefan he found himself swept over with compassion for that beautiful man, who was maybe a bit more complicated than he’d thought, but so dear to him already.  

“Listen to me,“ he said, taking his face in his hands. "I’ve never wanted anyone they way I want you. All of you.I am committed to this.” Relieved, he noticed that the tension on Michael’s face and pain in his eyes began ebbing away. Oh good. He managed to get it right. The words carried the message across. “You and I  - what we have - it makes sense. I want us to learn more about each other with every day, and grow into this, make it work. We are _together_ in this.”

Week later Michael invited him to his apartment.

                                                   *                                                      

The first thing that struck him was how small the apartment was. It was really just one, open-space room in the attic; but with many windows and skylights letting in a lot of light making the whole place luminous and cozy at the same time. Small, simple and white. Furnishings, such as curtains and cushions were grey, the furniture - all ash-brown oak wood. One side of the room was occupied by the piano and what looked like a custom made wardrobe. On the opposite wall under one of the skylights there was a bed neatly fitted into the corner, a night stand and a lamp. On the same wall in the other corner there was a desk, next to it a stool with an electric piano.

Stefan walked over more less to the center of the room and looked around enchanted.

 "You like it?“ Michael asked, standing next to him, watching his reaction.

 "I love it,” Stefan said. “It’s so bright and … pretty.”

“Why the tone of surprise? Did you expect a gloomy artistic mess?”

“No, but I guess …”

Stefan took another closer look at the surroundings and noticed that there was not kitchen, only a one narrow, cupboard with an electrical kettle on the counter, and a tiny in-built fridge. No cooker. That cupboard couldn’t contain many dishes, nor food. There was not table, no chairs other the ones next to the piano and the keyboard. No coffee table.

This apartment wasn’t meant for having guests, and looked like barely anyone ever came there.

In that moment Stefan realized that Michael wasn’t only letting him into a place where lived, he was letting him into his sanctuary - his own tiny, private world - the space he used to share only with his music.

“I love it,” he repeated wrapping his arm around Michael’s waist and pressing his face into his chest; he could already feel Michael hugging him tightly in response. “I am happy to be here.”

During the course of next week they made couple adjustments in their daily lives. In the corner of his living room Stefan made a nook for Michael’s stuff: the electric piano, which was transported there from Michael’s apartment, and a small chest of drawers for his notebooks, books, and other bits and pieces. Michael could hook up a noise cancelling headphones set to his piano so he could practice and work on his compositions even when Stefan worked or studied in the same room. Stefan on the other hand could stay at Michael’s any time, all he needed was his laptop, his master sketchbook, and a calendar; he could pack all of that into his bag pack. He would sit on the bed under the skylight, with the laptop on his lap, sipping coffee, working, while Michael practiced or did his own reading. Additional toothbrushes, razors and other items of personal care appeared in their bathrooms, each made room for the other’s clothes in their wardrobes.

Stefan took over the food department and designed the eating schedule. He started doing grocery shopping for both of them after he’d noticed that Michael’s fridge was empty more often than not. Very quickly he made a mental list of things Michael liked the most and made sure they always included them in their shopping. They also started going to the gym together, and on Sundays - the only day of the week when they were both free of any duties - they either went out to a cinema or a concert, or stayed in, in one of their apartments. If they stayed at Michael’s first they would go to have a dinner out, and if at Stefan’s he cooked for them.

One such night, very warm and humid, they decided to have some wine. Stefan cooled it before pouring it into glasses; it was deep cherry-red with primary aroma of forest fruits - light and well-balanced. He handed Michael a glass, and then he sat down next to him, on the stool in front of the piano, with the other glass in his hand. 

He had come to love these moments when they were alone in Michael’s tiny apartment and Michael played for him. He truly had been born to do that - watching him play was like looking at the image of perfect harmony. He made it look so easy. He made it look breathtakingly beautiful.

Michael took a sip of his wine, and then put the glass on a small table next to the piano, the table Stefan had bought and installed there.

“I think we had enough of classics, how about something popular this time?” suggested.

“Okay,” Stefan agreed.

“Any requests?”

“How about we do it this way: you play and I’ll try to guess what it is?” It never failed to impress him that Michael was able to play any song he would asked for.

“All right.”

The first one turned out to be very easy.

“That’s Imagine, John Lennon,” Stefan guessed right away.

Next came Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody and he got that one right even faster.

“Oh I know this one, it’s obvious,” he said listening to the third song. “Hmmm…,” he snapped his fingers. “Coldplay! Clocks.”

“Correct,” Michael was smiling.

“Don’t stop, it sounds amazing. Play the whole thing.”

The fourth song was a bit of a challenge.

“I know I know this but I can’t put my finger on it,” Stefan admitted.

“November Rain.”

“Aaah.”

“Let’s see if you recognize this one.”

Stefan listen, knitting his eyebrows slightly, nodding.

“Is that Adele?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes. Someone Like You,” Michael confirmed.

“One more.”

First chords sounded and Stefan laughed delighted.

“Elton John,” he said and then added, his voice quieter and husky. “Can you feel the love tonight…”

Their wine glasses were empty by then. They put them aside and Michael took him into his arms and kissed him. 

They got up, didn’t stop, parting just to inhale, shedding clothes between shorts breathes and wobbly steps, laughed when they toppled onto the bed. With the skylight above the bed half opened letting in the warm air of the summer night, they made love and later slept under the night’s starlit sky.

 

                                                   *                                                      

Summer break arrived which meant that they no longer had to attend lectures and practicals. Stefan still had to study for three important exams, two of them scheduled for late June and one for August. He also visited the university to consult his paper with his thesis supervisor. Nevertheless they had more time to spend together. Everything seemed to be going just fine until one evening.

Stefan could see that something was off the moment he opened the door. He could tell it by the way Michael’s shoulders were slightly hunched and his jaw stiff even when he leaned down to kiss him.

They walked over to the couch and sat down, Stefan reached for his hand right away. Michael did what he always did when uncomfortable or upset, he avoided eye contract looking down sideways.

“Hey…,” Stefan prompted, moving his hand up and down Michael’s arm. “What’s wrong?”

“There is this annual concert at the Philharmonic,” Michael began. “Huge gala. Every year they include performance of the so called 'young talent’ or 'rising star’. Someone else was supposed to go this year, but my professors changed their mind and they have me.”

“Oh. When is the concert?”

“In four weeks.”

“And they asked you now? Is that enough time to get prepared?”

“You mean to practice the material? Oh, sure. I could play it next week,” Michael waved his hand dismissively. “That’s not the problem. It’s the audience. There will be so many people…often guests such as ambassadors, public people, and celebrities show up…There’s press and TV.”

“Oh,” Stefan said again.

“Yeah. My professor said that she would understand if didn’t want to do it, but at the same time that if I decide not to, I should starting thinking about changing my specialization, and moving to the theory and composition for good.”

“Do you want to do that? Move for good?”

“I don’t know,” Michael said helplessly, his shoulders slumped. “I don’t know…I’m not sure.”

“I understand. I am usually at the other end of that conversation and I know just how brilliantly annoying it is, when you have people telling you, you _should_ be doing something, because _they_ think you’re great at it.”

“It’s not that they are wrong. You are a great painter”

“But you know what else? I am one hell of an architect. That is my strongest suit and I know it. This is what I love doing. Come on, I want to show you something.”

He walked up to the easel and pulled of the linen cloth covering it. The painting he revealed was a thing of beauty. Different shades of blue, turquoise and gold, with addition of white. Long lines, curved or bent in a way the whole picture resembled the way sun rays looked from underneath water. Even though it was obviously still - it seemed to be moving, undulating and had about it a mesmerizing tranquility.

“Wait a second, this look like…” Michael frowned. The image seemed familiar.

“Reflection in the water,” Stefan prompted. 

“Did you…when did you paint this?”

“I started painting it that night I came back from the conservatory, after you played for me for the first time.”

“My performance inspired you do this…” clearly he was amazed by that. “Your parents may yet see your works in a gallery.”

Stefan snorted.

“Or they may not. You see, I can do that, but at the end of the day I don’t regret that I am not a painter. I don’t wake up in the morning thinking that I have missed my calling.”

He turned to him and put his hands on Michael’s shoulders.

“You - you are an amazing pianist and an incredibly gifted composer. Whichever path you choose I am sure you will do spectacularly. You just have to answer one very important question - if you resign will you have no regrets? If the answers is 'no’ then it’s okay to resign.”

“You won’t be disappointed in me? If I resign?”

“No. No,” Stefan assured him shaking his head, smiling. “Never. Whatever decision you make I will support you. Although,” he added tilting his head to the side. “I’m sure you would look splendid in a tux.”

Michael couldn’t help but laugh. 

“But seriously, when do you have to decide?”

“Tomorrow.”

“All right. Then go to bed early today, sleep on it,”  Stefan advised. 

“You are the best you know,” Michael said, looking at him fondly. 

“Of course I am,” Stefan agreed, winking. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, were are slowly approaching the end of this story, but not yet :) what's in this chapter? well, we've had tiny bit of angst, we've had the sex, so now get ready for -- unapologetic domestic fluff :D :D

Next day, in the early afternoon Stefan had a two hour long meeting with his thesis supervisor. From the university, he went straight to Michael’s apartment. On the way he bought some snacks for the movie night they had planned for today, and grabbed Thai take-out for both of them for dinner.

When he entered to apartment, he was welcomed by the sound of the piano. Quietly he put the shopping bags on the floor, slid of his jacket and hung it by the door. Then he went into the room, stood behind Michael and he listened. The music had something about itself that made his heart flutter. It was sweet, harmonious, and at the same time clear and strong; right away he knew it was one of Michael’s own compositions.

“And? What do you think?” Michael asked, when he finished playing. He pulled Stefan down to sit next to him.

“It’s so lovely,” Stefan answered still enchanted.

“You like it?”

“It made me think about my father’s garden, you know. In late spring or early summer. Full of sunflowers, strawberries, and smell of grass warmed in the sun. It’s such a warm, happy feeling - like when you just cherish the moment and wanna stay there, and the world outside doesn’t matter.”

As he was talking he noticed that Michael’s smile was becoming wider and happier.

“Well that is exactly the feeling I wanted to convey. Especially that last part. And I like the sunflowers comparison.”

“It’s new right? I haven’t heard you play it before.”

“Yes. I’ve wrote it recently. You know what inspired me to write it?”

“Spring?”

“No.”

“Okay. I have no idea.”

“You.”

Stefan’s eyes opened wide in amazement.

“This how you make me feel,” Michael confessed as Stefan continued staring at him in disbelief, blinking.

“You wrote an actual music piece? For me?”

Michael nodded.

“You showed my your painting, so I thought you should know.”

“This is  _the_  most incredible thing anyone ever did for me…I, I don’t know what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem enough.”

“This is the least of what you deserve,” Michael replied.  "I should be thanking  _you_ ,“ he took in a deep breath and continued. "I decided that I am going to try. I don’t want to give up on being a concert pianist just yet. I think there is a part of me that wants to perform. I just need learn to overcome that fear.”

“We’ll find a way,” Stefan assured him.

Michael leaned forward and pressed his face into the nook of Stefan’s neck, letting the other man embrace him.

“I wish you could be my only audience…” he murmured.

“It would be very selfish of me to keep a talent like yours only for myself,” Stefan said smoothing his hair.

After a moment Michael sat up so they could look at each other

“I feel stronger when you are with me,” he declared, making Stefan’s face melt into smile. “It would be great if you could be there at the rehearsals…”

“When do they start?”

“Next week.”

“Would they let me in?”

“I suppose I could have that arranged,” Michael mused. “Perhaps not to all of them but at least few… But wait. Don’t you have that important exam coming up? You need the time to study.”

“Don’t worry about that,” seeing that Michael was about to protest he put a finger on his lips. “I will find the time. I want to be there for you.”

*

For the last couple of weeks going to Speed&Balance had been much less stressful for Michael, for one because Stefan went with him, two because Gregor had been gone on a business trip. Judging from the pictures he sent to his friends, and that included Michael, his business trips somehow always ended up on sunny beaches and in very nice restaurants.

That day, however, he was back. He saw them, registered the fact that they were holding hands, and his expression within the span of three seconds went from confused, to surprised and finally positively astonished. His face lighten up with his trademark dimpled grin.

“You! You dog,” he said giving Michael a light punch on the shoulder. “Not my type eh? You should have told me, that you have a cute boyfriend. Who happens to be a sensible interior designer.”

“Is that how he described me?” Stefan asked curiously.

“Nah. When Cara mentioned we needed someone sensible, Em here told us about you,” Gregor explained. “Forgot to mention the context. And you were just as stingy on that piece of information.”

“That’s because… we’ve just recently made it official,” Stefan responded in a diplomatic manner.

Michael could practically see the list of follow-up questions activating in Gregor’s mind. He squeezed Stefan’s hand gently to give him a warning and let him know they should be going. Luckily someone at the reception desk called for Gregor, so he had to excuse himself and leave - clearly disappointed.

They went to the locker room; Michael started changing and he noticed that Stefan was looking at the door to the changing room frowning slightly they way he did, when he was trying to understand something.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“Why does everybody call me cute?” Stefan asked in response, in a tone that suggested he wanted to know as it was something that had been bothering him for ages.

Michael did his best to stifle a chuckle and keep a straight face. Stefan looked at him and narrowed his eyes even more.

“You think that too, don’t you?” he accused him. “You think I’m cute.”

“Sweetness I think you are the cutest thing in the world, but I’m not really objective when it comes to you.”

Stefan reached for the hem of his t-shirt to pull it off and stopped. He didn’t seem to be satisfied with the answer.

“Is that because I’m short?” he asked further.

Michael somehow managed not to laugh. Normally he wouldn’t do it but since they were at that moment alone in the changing room, he walked over to Stefan and hugged him.

“I guess that could be one of the contributing factors,” he said kissing his hair, and laughed when he heard Stefan huffing against his chest.  

When they were on their way out, after the work-out, Gregor waited for them at the reception desk. They both exchanged panicked looks when he approached them with a mysterious smile.

“I’m so happy I caught you guys before you left. I have a huuge favour to ask,” he began and then laid out the issue. As he said, both he and Cara, and the project engineer responsible for the construction of their new gym decided that they would love Stefan to join in and consult during the process. Stefan wasn’t planning to take on another project, least a project of such size, but found that he couldn’t - and didn’t want to - say ‘no’ to Gregor.

The consequence of this decision was that the next time he went to the place where the new gym was to be built, he had to bring Manu with him, and introduce him to Gregor. The result was quite remarkable. The two men had instantly taken to each other. Manu listened and answered Gregor’s question with his typical unruffled patience, and Gregor was absolutely delighted by the extent and richness of Manu’s life experiences. For a moment there Stefan was worried that they would continue chatting and forget about the work entirely. Then at some point they switched to discussing the technical aspects of the project with the same level of engagement and focus; they began going through the design documentation making meticulous annotations, and evaluating possible modifications. Stefan had to leave earlier but he left them in the midst of comparing lists of potential suppliers - confident that they would get the job done.

*

For Thursday Stefan had an important escapade planned. He had to go a large shopping area almost on the outskirts of the city where several supermarkets, big-box stores and a shopping mall were all located in one place. His destination were of course home decor and furniture stores: Dot&Bo, Scandinavian Designs and H&M Home. He was about to prepare an affordable design for a young couple that he characterized as modern bohemian, and also purchase accessories for another clients who wanted something Scandinavian style - simple but a bit more elegant than IKEA, and didn’t mind paying more for it.

Michael had previously declared that would he go with him.

“You know, you don’t have to go,” Stefan said to him on late Thursday morning after they had breakfast, and they were getting ready to leave. “We can meet up in the city, in the evening and we’ll go to that place you picked for the dinner tonight.”

“No, that’s okay, I want to go.”

“You sure? It’s going to take hours and might be both boring and tiring for you.”

“I’m sure. Let’s go.”

Stefan’s concern wasn’t ungrounded. Michael personally found all these shops utterly overwhelming. There was too much of everything in there. Too many floors, rooms, stairs, things and people. He couldn’t believe that anyone actually managed to find what they needed in that vast sea of goods. Despite that, Michael didn’t regret his decision to come. He felt more confident going places with Stefan, and also observing him at work was an absolute delight.

The moment Stefan stepped in one of these stores he was in his element, like a hound following a trail. First off he knew exactly where to go, Michael assumed because he had been to these stores numerous times before. Still it was pretty impressive that he could drop 'we need lamps’ and then unerringly find the shortest path to the lamp section. Secondly he was able to pick thing A in one segment of the store, and then pick thing B in a completely different part - and somehow thing A and B were always a perfect match. Michael understood how Stefan might have felt the first time they met and when he had told him that he could hear the composition in his head. In the same way Stefan could see his intended design in his mind, even before he transferred it to a digital or material form.

He had a tablet with him; he took pictures which the devices automatically transferred to a dedicated software, where they got resized so that Stefan could moved them around in that program - like on a design board. Michael trailed after him and from time to time he peeked over his shoulder to see what was on the screen, just be amazed by the effect of Stefan’s work.  It was balanced and aesthetically pleasing: pretty, happy and positive.

At some point they stopped in front of a long table covered with small decor objects: vases, jars, boxes and chests, frames, trays, candle holders. Stefan assessed the whole thing with a frown, and then start picking up selected items, photographing them, while murmuring comments such as “this is positively horrible”, “well now that’s perfect”, “got it, this is it!”. Then he proceeded to larger elements: beds and sofas’ section, and next - tables and chairs.

Michael left him there for a moment, and disappeared, only to come back ten minutes later with two trail-mix bars and two paper cups.

“Here,” he said handing Stefan one of the bars. “I thought that you might be getting hungry so I visited the vending machine.”

“Oh, you’re a life saver. Nuts and berries, nice,” Stefan commented, tearing up the wrapping. “And what’s that?”

“Shitty instant cappuccino.”

“Will do.”

Second phase of their tour was bit more challenging - here they actually had to buy a lot of things. The other client - the one who wanted elegant Scandinavian interior - had already accepted the design, and the deal with them was “all inclusive” - which meant that Stefan was to provide not only the design but also assist with buying and arranging the furniture and accessories. They went to Scandinavian Design first and then to H&M Home. In both these stores, Michael offered to push the trolley, stating that it would give Stefan free hands, and he had nothing else to do anyway. Soon it turned out that it wasn’t the only way he could help.

Stefan spotted a wall clock - simple, with crisp elegant font, and colours fitting the scheme in his design - it hung on the wall among tens of other clocks, this one in particular at the about two meters of the ground. Stefan looked to the side and then to the other side.

“What are you looking for?” Michael asked.

“A ladder, there should be one nearby.”

Michael nodded, stepped closer to the wall and took the clock down. He had to reach up just a little, but still he could get to it easily.

“Why haven’t I thought about that?” Stefan asked, incredulous. “Being so tall must come in handy?”

“It does sometimes. Especially when you have a cute, short boyfriend who needs help with reaching for stuff.”

“That’s very funny. Come on, you will help me get wine glasses. For some reasons they are stacked on this very tall shelve…”

They spent quite a long time next to a large iron basket filled with what Michael considered an ungodly number of decorative cushions. He couldn’t comprehend the concept of decorative cushions in first place. Why would anyone want to have a cushion that is not soft and comfy so that they could rest their head on it. Stefan laughed and agreed, then added that many people liked to have them the same way they liked carpets or bed covers.

“Some people like to fill their houses with useless but pretty objects,” he told Michael. “Personally I don’t like it but my task is to tune into other people’s needs and create space they want to live in.”

“I think you are great at it,” Michael remarked.

“Choosing decorative pillows?”

“Tuning into other people’s needs.”

“You think so?” Stefan looked at him, he seemed slightly surprised to hear that.

“Mmhmm. And you know what… I think people have been wrong about you all the time. You didn’t need the painting to be an artist. What you do is a perfect balance between functional and beautiful. There is soul, and there is artistry in this.”

“You, you really think that?” Stefan asked suddenly looking almost bashful…and touched.

“I do. And you know that yourself, don’t you?”

“Well, no one has ever said it like that…And coming from you it’s even more important,” he said blushing softly.

“You’re blushing,” Michael pointed out smiling brightly.

“I guess I am. Am I being cute again?”

“Adorable,” Michael answered, they kissed, parted - and kissed again, then went back to browsing the cushion basket.  

Couple minutes later Michael noticed, that Stefan covered his mouth to conceal a yawn, and then rubbed his left eye to chase off sleepiness. He realized that between studying for the exams, finishing his work projects, helping Gregor with the gym, Stefan probably wasn’t getting enough sleep in last days. He put his arm around him, massaging his shoulder.

“Are we more less done?” he asked.

“Yeah. We can go.”

“You know what? Let’s eat here.”

“What about that place?”

“Another time. Why don’t you go to the mall, pick a place there, sit down and order. I’ll take that stuff to the car.”

“That’s a lot of stuff, you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll manage.”

Stefan must have been very tired because he didn’t protest, just stifled another yawn, and nodding sleepily he gave Michael the car keys.

“I’ll find you,” Michael said heading towards the elevator. He went to the garage, found the car, unload the contents of the trolley into the trunk.

He just left the trolley in the designated area when he heard the message sound, so he reached for his phone. The message was of course from Stefan, he gave him the coordinates: the segment of the mall, the floor and the name of the restaurant.

**_I‘m on my way. Can you order an Americano for me?_ **

_sure :) you might wanna know, they have ravioli with ricotta and spinach in cream parmesan sauce - i’m getting that_

**_**_Make it two_**   I will be there in 5 minutes._ **

*

When they arrived at Stefan’s apartment it was already around 8 o’clock. They unpacked the shopping and both went to their respective tasks. ****

Michael got himself a bottle of water from the fridge and installed himself in his nook - he connected the headphones, put them on and began his practice.

After a moment of consideration Stefan transferred his workstation to the couch in the living room. On the coffee table he arranged his laptop, glass of water with ice and lime, beer and textbooks. More books landed on the floor. He sat down on to couch, with the tablet in his hands, and first he went through all the pictures he’d taken today. He decided to focus on the project for the bohemian couple first, composed three suggested, digital sample and design boards. Once they were ready he e-mailed them, and turned his attention to his textbooks. He picked the one sitting on the edge of the table, opened it at the bookmarked page, grabbed a pencil and some colourful sticky tags, and began reading.

About an hour passed; as always Michael was so immersed in his music he barely noticed it, and he only realized that when he glanced at his watch.

He turned around to ask Stefan how was the studying going… and laughed to himself quietly. He took of the headphones and got up. On quiet feet he approached the sofa where Stefan was lying -fast asleep - with a textbook  still in his hands. Gently Michael pulled the book away and put it down on the floor. For a second he considered whether to wake him up and decided not to. Then even more carefully he picked him up, and carried him to the bedroom, where he put him on the bed and covered him with a blanket. All the time Stefan slept so tightly that he didn’t even stir. Michael sat down next to him at the edge of the bed and smiled, shaking his head - he could already imagine how pissed of Stefan was going to be in the morning. First because he fell asleep and didn’t complete his plan for that night, second because he fell asleep in his clothes and he didn’t brush his teeth.

Michael went back to the living room, found Stefan’s phone turned off the alarm clock, then he took his phone and left it at the nightstand in the bedroom. He took a quick shower and joined Stefan in bed.

Next day Stefan woke up at nine. 

At first he propped himself up on his elbow, still groggy from sleep and a bit disoriented. So it happened that Michael was in the bedroom in that moment, so he walked over to the bed and crouched beside it.

“Good morning sleepy head,” he said.

“G'mornin’. Why are you already up and dressed?” Stefan murmured, rubbing his eyes, then it suddenly dawned on him that his alarm clock didn’t ring. “Oh fuck, what time is it?”

“Ten to nine.”

“What? Fuck! I overslept.”

“Hey easy, you got plenty of time. Your meeting is at 11.30 and you can drive there. We’ve got the car here.”

“Yeah, but I have to…” Stefan began, throwing off the comforter. He was about to jump off the bed, when he stopped. “Do I smell coffee?” he asked looking at Michael questioningly.

“Yes.”

“You made coffee already?”

“I am making breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” Stefan repeated incredulously.

“Yes, it’s almost ready. Go, take a shower.”

“You turned off my alarm clock, right?” Stefan guessed.

“Yes, I hope you don’t mind. I wanted you to sleep a bit longer.”

“That’s okay,” Stefan said smiling and stretching. “That was very thoughtful, thank you.”

He walked out of the bedroom, into the kitchen, showered and fully awaken, and he stopped taking in the view. The table was laid: eggs were fried - sunny-side-up and sprinkled generously with chives and pepper, exactly the way he liked them, bread sliced and neatly stacked in a little basket, butter, cutlery, jar of marmalade - all nicely arranged. Michael was standing next to the oven flipping a pancake on a frying pan.

In that moment Stefan thought that, this is what happiness feels like. 

“I feel so spoiled right now,” he said delighted, wrapping his arm around Michael’s waist. “with all that TLC.”

“You know how it works - you get what you give,” Michael replied kissing him on the forehead. “Come on, get the coffee. What do you want with your pancakes?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dear readers, we have arrived at the end of this story - there will be one more, very short chapter, but essentially this is the finale.  
> thank you for reading, and for those of you who did - for commenting and leaving kudoz ;D 
> 
> my special thanks goes to modest_amaro - the absolutely relentless supporter of my writing process and most importantly the person who provided inspiration for that fic in first place! thank you so much my dear ---;-@

The concert hall was large and spacious, and had something royal and mysterious about it even when fully lit. The space was set up in an oval configuration; included orchestra and balcony level, on both levels there was box seating - all the seats gave outstanding view of the stage. Stefan got a pass, allowing him in and out, and the access to the backstage. He walked around for a while admiring the construction. After that he settled in the first row and watched the commotion on stage. The orchestra was slowly filling in; everyone was chatting, some were warming up, going through scores, or adjusting their instruments.

The Steinway stood a bit to the left of the stage in all its smooth, elegant, black glory. It was a gorgeous grand piano. Anyone who walked past it glanced at it almost reverently. Michael was standing next to it, talking to the first violin, incredibly tall, majestic woman with short blonde hair. He was wearing a bright-blue sweater and among all the other members of the orchestra dressed in darker colours, he looked almost ethereal.

When finally most of the orchestra got on stage, they were already running about fifteen minutes behind the schedule. The conductor took the podium and clapped for silence. Michael pulled the bench out and slid into his place in front of the piano.

“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, our soloist is with us this morning. Everyone please welcome him,” the conductor introduced Michael, who stood up, bowed and sat down again. The orchestra clapped for him quite enthusiastically. Stefan noticed excited murmuring in the string section.

“Let’s start then, ready?” the conductor asked.

“I’m ready, Maestro,” Michael nodded.

"From the top,” the conductor brought his hands up and everyone focused their attention.

Michael hit his first chord. It came out bit too fluttery. His hand were trembling just so slightly. He cast a quick glance towards the first row.  Stefan winked at him and gave him a thumb up.

The conductor stopped. He didn’t seem upset - quite the contrary, maybe even a bit sympathetic. He simply said.

“Let’s start again shall we?”

The first violin turned to Michael and gave him an encouraging smile.

They began again.

This time Michael inhaled, closed his eyes for a moment, and started playing. When they got to the arpeggios, he leaned slightly into them. He managed to put just the right amount of weight on each note, and the music carried itself along. The conductor guiding them with his right hand, had a subtle, contented smile on his face. He glanced at the first flutist and gave her the cue, which she recognized immediately. Her flute joined in and flew above Michael’s careful, considered arpeggios, then the conductor gave the clarinet the nod to come in and carry it on. From there it went fine.

After the rehearsal they met outside the concert hall in the corridor. Michael seemed at the same time relieved and worried.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he said, and he took Stefan’s hand. They began walking down large marble stairs towards the main door.

Stefan couldn’t stop thinking about what he saw during the rehearsal: everyone in the orchestra, even though they were clearly older and more experienced treated Michael with respect and … even awe. Stefan realized that he  _didn’t_ realize up until now, just how talented Michael was. He spoke briefly with the first violin and she told him, that Michael had the potential to become one of the greatest concert pianists in the world. Stefan felt honoured that he could be by his side.

In the evening Manu popped into Michael’s apartment to leave Stefan some documentation to sign. Stefan had previously made sure that Michael would be comfortable with Manu coming to his place. Michael assured him that he didn’t mind. “He is nice to have around,” he said. “His calm and inner balance seem to be infectious.”

The first thing Manu asked when they settled down on the floor at a makeshift coffee table made of a large box - Michael still didn’t own anything resembling a table - was directed at Stefan.

"You didn’t tell Gregor that we have a company?” he asked.

“I did.”

“Did you mention that we’re dealing with green housing?”

“No, it didn’t occur to me he would be interested. Did you?”

“As a matter of fact I did. And guess what? He is very much into it. He asked if perhaps we could consider bringing him in as an investor?”

“What?” Michael asked, incredulous.

“Hey guys, he might a be bit babbly… but he is a shrewd businessman and he has some pretty bold ideas. It would be great to have someone like that on the board.”

Michael and Stefan looked at each other, both clearly a bit disbelieving of the fact that they were going agree to that idea, then they turned to Manu and nodded in unison.

Once that was decided, they changed the topic. As he’d promised, Manu talked about his trip to India, and showed them some of the pictures he took there. At some point Michael confessed that he was particularly interested in India because his sister’s partner - the father of his niece - was of Hindu origin.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises,” Manu commented. “Where is he from?”

“His parents come from India, but he has never been there actually. My sister will tell you all about it.”

“Your sister…” Manu repeated, while Stefan looked at Michael astonished. This was the first time he mentioned any kind of possible interaction between them and his family.

“She’s going to be there at the concert, so I suppose you will have the chance to meet. You’re coming to concert aren’t you?”

“I am,” Manu confirmed smiling, trying not to look surprised. “Of course I am coming. Speaking of the concert…” he reached into his bag and fished out a small, velour pouch.

“Here,” he said handing it to Michael. “This is for you.”

“For me? Why…?” he turned the pouch upside down and a small object fell out of it onto his palm. It was an antique, brass and silver pendant  representing a figure with an elephant head sitting crossed legged.

“Do you know who that is?” Manu asked.

“That’s Ganesha, right?”

“Correct. He is worshiped as the remover of obstacles as well as the patron of arts and sciences. He is meant to give you courage and wisdom to overcome obstacles that had been placed in your path to help you grow.”

"Thank you so much …” Michael whispered.

“Don’t mention it. That’s what friends are for right?" Manu responded, winking at Stefan who smiled back at him with appreciation and gratitude.

*

Next day after the rehearsal, Michael went back to his apartment, and Stefan had to stay in town to run couple of errands. When he was done, as usually he got them something for dinner - this time it was sushi - and on the way back to Michael’s apartment, he stopped at Kofi’s to get them something for dessert. No the cheesecake but another highlight of the menu - a strawberry tart with vanilla crust.  

"Hey I am testing a new roast - almond flavour, want me to fix you a cup?” Andi asked. In the meantime Julia will get the tart for you.“

"Yeah sure.”

Stefan walked over to the nearest table and sat down. He didn’t sit there alone for more than half a minute. Andi joined him; he gave him the coffee, threw a dishcloth over his shoulder and sat down on the chair next to him.

“What’s on your mind?” he prompted.

Stefan sighed.

“Is it that obvious?”

“No. I got the bar tender’s sixth sense. Come on, spill it out. It’s about Michael, right?”

“Mmhmm.”

“You want to help him.”

“Naturally. I just don’t know what can I do. How did you cope with stress? There is a lot of pressure in sports too right?”

Andi nodded.

“In professional sports, on the national level - there is media attention, press conferences, promotional gigs,” he confirmed, and then he went on. “Even during the competition itself, there is audience - often tens of thousands. And there you are, about to do something that requires tremendous concentration and physical effort with a camera closing up on your face and thousands of viewers watching every twitch of your muscles.”

“So what did you do?”

“I had to learn to isolate myself. It wasn’t easy. It was crucial to stay focused on the task itself, and filter everything else away, until that task was done. Also humour helps.”

“Humour?”

“Yup. I tried thinking about something funny. My cousin used to have this dog, his name was Scotch..“                

"You named a dog Scotch?”

“Not me, my cousin did. Anyway, Scotch was a mix of six different breeds, and it was the silliest dog on the planet. Whenever I was really nervous I’d think about him trying to pull his head out of a watering can, or running around a table leg in circles, and barking like he was having the time of his life. We all loved him.”

“And it helped? Thinking about Scotch?”

“It always made me smile and that made me forget about the fear and pressure, at least for a moment.”

Stefan took  sip of the almond coffee; it was frothy and carried just a hint of sweetness along with the almond flavour.

“This is really nice,” he pointed to the cup.

“I’m glad you like it,”  Andi responded, and then changed the subject. “Manu tells me you guys have a new business partner?”

“He already told you?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a long story, and I think that this new business partner would be more than happy to tell you about it himself.”

“Bring him here.”

“I will but after the concert. Which is when you’ll probably get the chance to meet him.”

Andi nodded and got up.

“Hey Stefan,” he said before leaving. “It will be fine, you’ll see. He will be fine.”

“What makes you think so? He has had that problem for many years, it won’t just magically go away.”

“That’s true. But now he has something he didn’t have before. He has you.”

Day by day the weeks passed and the date of the concert was drawing near. Michael tried to be brave and not show it but Stefan could see that he was becoming more and more anxious. During the day it was better, as he could keep himself and his mind occupied with other things, but at night’s Stefan heard him tossing from side to side, not being able to fall asleep for hours.

Michael wanted to suggest that maybe Stefan should stay in his apartment for the next couple of nights to get some solid night sleep, but he didn’t. Firstly, he knew that Stefan wouldn’t hear about it, secondly he couldn’t imagine just how stressed he would be without Stefan sleeping and waking up by his side.

One the night, last but one before the concert, he couldn’t even close his eyes. He just lay there, staring at ceiling vacantly. At some point he felt Stefan touching his hand lightly.

“Can’t sleep?”

“I’m sorry.”

They both sat up. Stefan reached for the lamp and turned on the light on, then he got up and went to the fridge, took out a bottle of water, and poured into it two glasses. He sat down, handing Michael one of the glasses. Then he began recounting his conversation with Andi. Michael listened, nodding from time to time.

“There is something to it,” he said finally. “At that first rehearsal, you know what helped me then?”

“What was it?”

“I thought about us sitting in my apartment, and… how it felt when I was playing for you. Everything was familiar and safe.”

"Do you think you would be able to focus on that - to re-create that feeling in your mind?”

“I’ll try.”

*

They arrived in the theater much earlier to have plenty of time to get dressed and ready. Backstage was filled with energy, constant humming punctuated by sudden outbursts of music coming from dressing rooms; laughter could be heard across the corridors, carrying the excitement of people who were about to do something major together.

Michael shared a dressing room with few other orchestra members, but when Stefan sneaked into it, in that moment it seemed that there was no one there. Everyone was warming up now; the first violin was playing scales in the room next door.

He noticed bits of Michael’s suit laid out on a tiny sofa, ready for him to put on. Many performers nowadays went for a more casual look and no longer wore a tailcoat, but Stefan appreciated that Michael had a classic approach to his profession. He looked about wondering where Michael could have gone.

Then he heard an unfortunate noise coming from the back of the room, where in the very corner a small faucet was installed. Michael was there bent over it, wiping his mouth. Stefan hadn’t noticed him because a rag with costumes obscured that corner. When he realized what was going on he grabbed a bottle of water and a pack of tissues, and quickly went there.

“Hey, are you all right?” he asked. Michael gave him a rather helpless look, he held out a hand, then he bowed down and vomited again.

Stefan handed him the bottle - the water in the tap was not good for drinking - and tissues. Michael took both things, and straightened up slowly. He took a sip and spit it out.

"Surprisingly,” he said still gasping a little. “I feel kind of better now,” he added when he stabilized his breathing. Stefan massaged his shoulder reassuringly.

“Do you need anything? A chewing gum?”

“No, thanks. I was actually prepared for that, I got toothpaste and a brush in my bag.”

“Wait, I’m gonna get it for you.”

When Michael cleaned himself up, they both walked over to the part of the room where the mirrors, and makeup desks were situated. Michael sat at the edge of the small sofa, next to his suit. He was paler than usual.

Stefan embraced him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, pulling his face to his chest. Michael immediately gave in to that embrace encircling Stefan waist in response. Stefan hugged him tightly, running his hand up and down his back. They didn’t say anything, just held each other like that for a moment.

Finally Michael pulled away muttering ‘thank you’. They had to part now.

“You will be fine,” Stefan said before he left. “Tonight. I promise. It’s gonna be fine.”

Michael held onto that promise, when he was waiting in the wings ten minutes later. Everyone else was onstage. The first violin walked passed him, and gestured with her chin towards the stage, he nodded. After her it would be his turn. He touched the pocket of his tailcoat, it was where he had put the pedant. 

And then he heard the announcer calling out his name. He knew, when he walked out into the bright, blinding light of the stage, that Stefan was there.

*

On the stage, the curtains were down; it was calm and empty still, but it wouldn’t be long before the spectators were allowed in. Stefan peeked out carefully, he noticed that everything was ready. The conductor’s scores were on his stand, his baton laid across them. The Steinway waited.

He knew that there was nothing else he could do here so he went backstage, and from there he took a back corridor leading outside to the main hall, where the audience was gathering.

Among the people milling in the hallway, he noticed a tall woman with blonde hair, arranged in a loose braid, whom Michael resembled so much that it didn’t leave Stefan any doubt as to who she was. He decided to approach her.

“Excuse me,” he said getting her attention. When she turned around to face him, he asked: “Are you Tessa?”

She nodded, a bit surprised but also curious.

“Yes, that’s my name,” she answered. “Do we know each other?”

“Uhmm, I’m …,” Stefan couldn’t stop staring. He knew that she was twelve years older than Michael but they looked so much alike that they could be mistaken for twins. It felt a bit weird.

Then suddenly her eyes grew larger, somehow she realized to whom she was talking.

“You’re Stefan right?”

“Yes.”

Her expression change almost immediately into one that could be described as charmed and affected.

“This may come as too straightforward… but can I - can I hug you?”

Stefan agreed. She was as tall as her brother so she had lean down into a hug the same he did. When she straighten herself up, she looked at him with warm smile and fondness.

“Thank you,” she said simply.

“Don’t thank me please, I didn’t do anything …”

“You made him happy. I’ve never seen him that happy before. And we are here tonight… I still can’t believe he agreed to perform. You have no idea how huge that is, and how important - for him, and for me. I am so glad to finally meet you.”

Stefan felt moved but also undeserving of such appreciation. Not knowing what to say, he turned his attention to a young girl standing politely next to her mother. He knew that she was nearly 6 years old, she had her mother’s and Michael’s blue eyes, but her hair was dark brown, shinning and thick. She was wearing navy blue leggings, and a blue, beautifully ornamented, long-sleeved tunic.  

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi yourself,” Stefan greeted her.

Tessa put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

“Danny, this is Stefan. He’s Michael’s boyfriend,” she introduced him.

“Like a friend?”

“No sweetheart. They are together like me and your dad.”

“Oh, I understand,” Danny nodded eagerly. Then she turned to Stefan and said. “It means that you love him right?”

He and Tessa both exchanged a quick amused look. Stefan blushed, slightly embarrassed, but then he replied.

“Yes I do, I love him very much,” it came out much softer, than he intended. As the word left his lips, he realized he said it out loud for the first time.

“So you are my uncle now too?”

“I guess I am.”

Danny reached out her hand resolutely.

“My name is Daana, but my family calls me Danny. You can call me Danny.”

“In that case, I’m happy to meet you Danny,” Stefan answered shaking her small hand. “I heard you play the piano too.”

“Yes I am going to be a pianist, like uncle Michi.”

Stefan raised his eyebrows, and looked at Tessa questioningly, trying not to laugh.

“She couldn’t pronounce his name correctly when she was a baby,” Tessa explained. “That is what she came up with instead. But remember, she’s the only one allowed to call him that,” she added winking.

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

“Stefan?” Danny pulled his hand. “Michi told me that you can draw beautifully?”

“I can draw quite well, that’s true,” Stefan confirmed. “Would you like me to draw something for you?”

“Yes!”

“What would you like it to be?”

“An elephant!”

“You know what? I know someone who knows quite a bit about elephants. Would you like to meet him?”

“I would like to,” Danny replied, and Stefan turned to Tessa saying, “Come on, I’ll introduce you to our friends.”

Andi, Manu, Gregor and Cara stood few paces away, forming a small circle - all four of them engaged in a conversation about various stretching techniques. Cara did in fact look stunning in a black dress, which fitted her figure like a glove - knee long with one long sleeve, leaving her other arm, her perfectly sculpted shoulder and bicep - exposed. She was wearing high heels which made her now much taller than Gregor; something he clearly didn’t mind at all, standing by her side radiating pride and adoration. Both Andi and Gregor looked dashing in their suits; Manu made a concession to the dress code by wearing regular trousers, but he didn’t put on a suit - just a grey linen shirt. Stefan did the introduction round giving Tessa everyone’s names and occupations.

Manu crouched next to Danny.

“Daana, that is a wonderful name. It means  _generosity_ and  _wisdom_  doesn’t it?” he asked

The girl nodded.

“And where did you get such a beautiful shalwar kameez?”

“From my great aunt from India,” Danny answered. “Do you know where that is?”

Gregor chuckled, and Cara shook her head amused.

“Oh, he knows,” she said.

Danny’s eyes lit up with curiosity and she went on to ask more questions.

Tessa looked at that assembly clearly astonished.

“Are we a bit too overwhelming?” Andi asked.

“No, it’s just that …I’m still getting used to this new reality in which my little brother not only is a healthy and loving relationship, but apparently has a  _group_  of friends.”

“It’s not like he  _wanted_  to be friends with me,” Gregor corrected grinning. “I decided for him.”

“Yeah, and I come as a part of package deal with Stefan,” Manu declared. “So he didn’t have a choice.”

“Mum? Do you know that Manu went to India? And he saw an elephant? A real one, not one in a zoo.”

“Those in a zoo aren’t real?” Gregor asked.

“No,” Danny shook her head.

“Of course they aren’t real, you philistine,” Manu confirmed and Gregor laughed.

“Hey everyone, I think we should go inside and take our seats,” Cara suggested. “Before more people starts pouring in.”

After about twenty minutes almost everyone was their seats. Stefan looked around; it seemed it was going to be a full house. The last few stragglers were settling down, and wiggling into their rows. He noticed that Tessa, who was sitting three seats away and one row up, kept flexing her hands nervously. 

The conductor came in first, took his place and nodded his assent, which is when the first violin strode onto the stage. The orchestra rose to their feet, as she took the podium. She bowed deeply to the audience, and when turned back to the orchestra - they all sat again. She gave a cue to play the tuning A - a strong oboe note. The rest of the woodwind instruments tuned to it first, then the brass; the strings were adjusting.

Finally the announcer called for the soloist. Stefan felt his heart began beating so fast he thought it would escape his chest.

Michael walked out from behind the scenes, and Stefan could swear, he heard several people gasp in awe.

Those who didn’t know would never guess. He looked like he owned the stage. He walked in stately, calm and composed, with his hair gleaming in the lights. He was wearing a pristine white shirt and an immaculate tailcoat, which fitted him perfectly. He didn’t just looked elegant - he looked magnificent and regal.

He nodded slightly to the conductor and walked over to the piano. Stefan held his breath…

*

His heart fluttered tightly in his chest as he walked up to the piano. He took a deep breath and forced it all the way down.He wasn’t dizzy anymore, he didn’t feel terrified, which was a huge improvement, but his hands were trembling, and he knew, he had to get that under control.

He sat down opened his score, and frowned surprised. There was an extra page there. Michael looked at it and had to inhale sharply to suppress bursting out with laughter.

It was a drawing of the concert hall, the one they were in right now, but instead of the human audience, all the seats were taken by sunflowers which rested their leafy, green limbs on the armrests. That wasn’t all. In the first row every sunflower had a miniature of Stefan’s face drawn in the center. Then in the second it was: Andi, Manu, Gregor and even Cara - all smiling cheerfully. The whole thing was ridiculous. Instead of fighting fear he had to fight the urge to laugh. With all the sounds systems on even if he as much as chuckled, everybody in the hall would hear it. The first violin looked at him and winked; clearly she must have had something to do with it. Quickly he took the drawing and hid it underneath the score. He realized that some of the tension sipped out of him.

He thought about Stefan and the rest somewhere there in the audience. His sister and Danny; Andi with his big, goofy grin and even bigger heart, Manu’s patience and peace of mind, Gregor’s undying enthusiasm, and his generosity, Cara’s no-nonsense manner. They were all here for him tonight.

Taking in one more slow breath and recalled the moments he played for Stefan in his apartment, and the feeling of having him beside him: the warmth of his body, the smell of his hair and his reassuring, bright presence. His faith in him written all over his face - honest and sweet.

He put his hands on the piano and the moment his fingers touched the keys he felt at home. Everything around him fell away, anything that was not this beautiful instrument, the intricate moves of the conductor, and the grandeur of the orchestra.

He let it go and let himself become completely immersed in the music as he began to play.

He didn’t really come back to earth until he hit the final chords.

*

Throughout the entire performance Stefan was just as enchanted as the first time Michael ever played for him. He barely registered anyone around him, but when he did cast a glance sideways, he could see that others were just as delighted and amazed.

When the concert drew to the end, Michael lifted his hands from the keys and rested them on his knees. The conductor turned around to face the audience.

There was a moment of absolute silence…

And then the audience erupted with thunderous applause one by one springing to their feet clapping with profound appreciation.

Michael came to the edge of the stage bowed, received heartfelt hand shake from the conductor. The first violin, hugged him briefly and took his hand, and they bowed again together, as the orchestra clapped and the audience cheered.

Seeing their reaction Stefan found himself moved to tears. He glanced at Tessa, she was smiling and crying. His friends were clapping exchanging happy smiles. Andi put his arm around him and hugged him wholeheartedly. 

“You see I told you it will be fine!”

“You were right,” Stefan said, and then he added. “You were right from the start.”


	10. Chapter 10

The concert ended but the not the evening. Michael had to talk to many people, including reporters covering the event. He started every interview by mentioning how he wouldn’t have been here without the support of his partner, his family, and his friends. The last one he actually did with Stefan by his side. The reporter, for some reasons, smiled throughout the entire interview. When they finished she asked if they could have a picture of them together.  It was couple more hours before they could finally go to the dressing room and change back into regular clothes.

When they finally got home it was late at night, Michael took a shower and went straight to to bed. When Stefan left the bathroom just ten minutes later Michael was already asleep. This time it was Stefan turn to sit down on the edge of the bed and look at his sleeping partner. He knew that he must have been exhausted. For a long moment he sat there, looking at the way moonlight and shadows played on Michael’s skin, as he went through the events of the evening: their conversation in the changing room, meeting Tessa, the moment Michael walked onto the stage, the audience’s reaction. Recalling that made him feel happy and proud.  _How did I get so blessed_ , he thought. He released a slow, contented sigh and got up to get the clothes that he slept in. When he realized that he had forgotten to wash them, he just pulled out one of Michael’s gym t-shirts, put in on, and went to bed.

The morning next day was bright, but cool and cloudy, which was a nice break from the summer’s heat. They didn’t have to hurry or go anywhere, at least not till the afternoon, so they allowed themselves a lazy breakfast in bed. Stefan put their coffee and croissants on the floor, and slid back into bed. He made himself comfortable and snuggled up to Michael, resting his head on his shoulder.

Michael looked down at Stefan; took a moment to admire the way his dark eyelashes touched gently on his cheeks every time he closed his eyes. He lifted his hand and tucked strands of Stefan’s hair behind his ear and then traced the lines of his cheek and lips with the tips of his fingers, while Stefan murmured softly in approval.  

“Stefan?”

“Hmm?”

“You could design a house for us… in the future?”

Stefan sat up. He was so surprised by that statement that for a moment he didn’t know how to react. The thing that struck him the most was that Michael was considering leaving his apartment.

“Of course, of course I could do that,” he said finally. “What are you gonna do with this apartment then?”

Even though they only shared it for a very short time he already had come to love that tiny attic space. There was so much of Michael in it, he couldn’t imaging selling it to someone, or a stranger living here.

“My plan was to give it to Danny in the future. She’s just a kid yet, but she loves it too, and I believe she will study at the conservatory one day. So this place would be perfect for her.”

Stefan breathed out in relief; that was the best plan he could possibly imagine.

“As long as we both study naturally it makes sense for things to stay the way they are,” Michael continued, “But we can’t live in two separate apartments forever,” he concluded. Hearing that made Stefan incredibly happy the Michael was the one to say it first. The arrangement they had, worked well so far, however in a long run it would be completely impractical.

“You would be okay with moving out from here? You love this place.”

“I do. Mostly because I feel safe here. I’m sure I’ll feel safe in our house,” Michael answered,  "And I suppose you could recreate a similar space there, right?“

"Of course. We could have an livable attic and all the windows. I might not be able to space them in exactly the same way, that will depend on which side of the world the house would be facing, but sure… I can try to make it as similar as possible,” Stefan assured him.

His voice wavered a little, because he found himself feeling very emotional. He had done this so many times - listened to other people telling him about their ideas on how they would like to organize their living space and what it should look like. He’d never thought one day he could be doing this for himself and the person he loved. Hearing the words  _I’m sure I’ll feel safe in our house_  melted his heart to the ground. He could think of no better declaration of love from Michael than those words.

“What else would like there?” he asked.

“Shouldn’t I leave it up to you?”

“Nooo. Let’s brainstorm ideas. That’s the best part. Something tells me you have some suggestions of your own.”

“I …I do,” Michael admitted with a bashful smile.

“Come on, let me hear them.”

“So, the kitchen could be bit bigger than yours,” Michael suggested carefully.

“Okay. I agree.”

“Of course, there should be an office room for you…”

“And a little studio for you,” Stefan picked up. “Soundproof with the right acoustics.”

“That would be great. Maybe a guest room? For Tessa if she wanted to come and stay with her family. Or maybe Manu.”

“Perfect.”

“That’s many rooms. Isn’t it going to be too much.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll squeeze it all in. I don’t like large, sprawling houses. Anything else?”

“Well, I was thinking we could have one those walk-out terraces in the backyard. So that we could have breakfast outside in spring and summer.”

Stefan grinned.

“I love that idea,” he said.

“And one more thing…” Michael hesitated slightly embarrassed. “It’s a bit silly though. And not very ecological.”

“What is it?”

“You know my bathroom’s tiny.”

It was tiny. Two people couldn’t really fit in there. That was why they always had to take turns to shower.

“So it would be nice to have a bigger bathroom with a shower and maybe … a tub.”

Stefan laughed delighted and kissed him.

“We’re gonna get a tub big enough for us both,” he promised.

“Mmmm I like  _that_  idea,” Michael replied running his fingers through Stefan’s silky hair. “You know what…” he murmured his voice dropping down almost to a purr. “I haven’t got the chance to thank you properly for everything you did yesterday.”

"You’re kidding, you don’t have to…” Stefan was about to protest but stopped when Michael started kissing his neck. “Oh, you mean that way,” he said, chuckling mingled with a little sigh of pleasure.

“Yes..that way.”

“You wanna do it now?” Stefan laughed when Michael’s breath tickled his skin.

“Why not?” Michael asked before capturing his lips and sliding his hand underneath Stefan’s t-shirt; they started kissing. Stefan moved closer to him and reached up to wrap his hand over Michael’s neck. Clearly he didn’t need much convincing.

“Okay,” he agreed merrily, kissing Michael back and pulling him down onto the bed.  "I’m ready to receive your formal acknowledgment.“

                                                         *

In the early afternoon, when they arrived at Kofi’s, Manu was already there, standing outside, leaning against the wall; he was holding a square, flat package wrapped up in a grey paper.

"I got the thing you’d asked me to bring,” he said to Stefan, and then added. Gregor’s gonna be here any time. He texted saying we should go in.“

So they did go in. Manu handed the package to Stefan.

"You should do the honour,” he said, exchanging smiles with Michael. Andi noticed them and walked out from behind the counter.

“What are you guys up to?” he asked suspiciously, approaching.

“We wanted to give you something,” Stefan began, glancing at Michael who nodded. “As a ‘thank you’ gift.”

“Thank you for what?”

“Just open it. You’ll see,” Manu suggested.

Andi took the package from Stefan, placed it on the nearest table and tore off the paper, revealing the painting. He clapped and laughed delighted, and then proceeded to give each one of them a bear hug.

“This is it!” he said. “This is exactly what I’ve been talking about all time!”

“I told you, you were right about everything.”

“But Stefan bless your soul, I can’t just take this! I didn’t really do anything. Just gave you a little nudge.”

“And that little nudge made all the difference,” Stefan argued. “Besides I will paint more, this one is for you. For bringing us together.”

Andi beamed at them, then he looked back at the painting, and scratched his chin, thinking; finally he snapped his fingers.

“I know! I’ll put in on the wall next to your table.”

“Our table?” Michael repeated.

“Yes, that’s how we call it. Come on, let’s put it up!”

They were in the process of hanging the painting on the wall when Gregor arrived. He said Cara would join them in about half an hour. Next, he noticed the painting and stopped.

“Where did you guys get this?” he asked, clearly astonished. .

Manu pointed to Stefan, and Gregor’s eyes grew large in amazement.

“Wow, you two are one hell of a talented couple,” he said, and turning to Stefan, he asked “Does it have a name?”

“Mmhmm. I named it  _Soundlines,_ ” he replied and briefly explained why.

“Very fitting,” Gregor acknowledged, still nodding with wonder.

“Indeed,” Andi agreed. “Come on, guys let’s sit down and eat.”

They brought themselves three additional chairs and sat down at Stefan and Michael’s table. Couple minutes later Andi and Julia came with trays loaded with all the good stuff: cups of coffee and tea, sandwiches and cheesecake.

Manu frowned when Andi placed a plate in front of him, next to his vegan latte.

“Cheesecake? he asked.  “For me?”

"Don’t worry,” Andi assured him.  "It’s vegan.“

"You’re kidding? You did not?”

“Yes, yes I did,” Andi replied, taking a seat next to him. “I finally decided to listen to your suggestion. It took me a while to perfect the formula but I think it is now somewhere near the taste of the original.”

“Mate this is superb,” Manu mumbled already chewing on the first bite.  "You just made my life so much better.“

Then he cast a sneaky glance towards Stefan, and after he made sure the other man wasn’t listening, he asked in a conspirator’s whisper.

"You think, you and Julia could make a vegan wedding cake?”

“Haha. I don’t know. It’s the cream you know.”

“As you can see coconut milk works.”

“Is that the answer to everything?”

“It totally is mate.”

“We’ll try. Do you think we might need such cake?”

“One day,” Manu winked at him, and they turned to the rest.

“You know what we should do?’” Gregor was just saying excitedly. “We should go on a trip together! I have a cabin by the lake, about two hours drive from here. It’s very nice there especially in late summer. We could have a little camp fire.”

Everyone agreed to the idea with great enthusiasm.

"Speaking about going places,” Manu began. “Tessa told me her husband would like to visit his family’s home. So I was thinking… maybe one day we should all go to India.”

“I’m in,” Andi said immediately.

“Me too,” Gregor followed.

“We might as well go to Australia too. Michael is gonna perform there one day, at the Sydney Opera” Manu declared, while Michael shook his head amused. “Hey you can’t be coy now! Not after we’ve all seen what you can do.”

“Besides we are your support group, so we have to be there,” Gregor added.

“Guys I really cannot thank you enough for that. But I don’t expect you to follow me around everywhere.”

“Well, we might not be able to go everywhere,” Manu admitted. “But we’ll try.” Gregor and Andi nodded eagerly.

Next the three of them began planning the trip to Gregor’s cabin; picking date, exchanging ideas of what they could do there, assigning tasks, arguing what would be better - a classic camp fire or maybe a barbecue.

Stefan and Michael listened, sipping their coffee. Stefan moved his hand under the table and laced their fingers together. For a second he thought about that day they met. He could have sat down somewhere else, or his client could have  _not_  change their mind, his laptop could have been fully charged… That thought scared him so much, he gave Michael’s hand squeeze, and moved closer to him. Michael turned to him and pressed a light kiss onto his temple.

“You okay there?” he asked softly.

“I am. I’m just… I’m just very happy we’ve met,” Stefan whispered back. “All of us.”

“Me too,” Michael responded, and he glanced at the three men sitting in front of them, eating cheesecake and ferociously disputing whether to rent kayaks or canoes for the trip. “I think you and I, and these guys - we make a great team.”

“We do, right?”

They looked at each other and smiled, both suddenly filled with joyous but patient anticipation of the life that they would share; all the adventures and journeys that awaited them, the art they would create, places they would see together, the home that they would build for themselves. Both knew that surely, there would struggles too, and bad days to come - but they would go through them together. Together - all of them together - they would be all right.

They kissed and joined the rest in their discussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last one :) once again HUUGE thanks to everyone for reading (and commenting) :D

**Author's Note:**

> the title is derived from a song called 'heartlines' by broods, that i have been killing while writing the fic...


End file.
